Faith and Anger

Hey Lord,

I know we haven’t talked in a while, or more accurately I know that I haven’t talked to you. You, however, have been loud and clear. I guess that I’ve just recently realized how mad I am. I am more mad than when this happened to my mom when I was eight. I’m more mad than when the world got darker and you called my Ri closer to you. I’m more mad than when everything was going perfectly right in the world and you shot me down by taking my grandpa home with you. I’m more mad than when I had to restart my whole life as my Air Force career was taken from me. I’m even more mad than when you called the others home. I’m so insanely mad at you! Why would you take her? She was loved. I was already singing to her and telling her about you. My husband, the man you gave just to me, loved her like I had never seen him love before. She would have been brought up to know you. I would have taught her everything I could and she would have taught me even more, I’m sure. That’s my little girl with you.. She had always been yours, but she was mine..

Every day as I’m scrolling through my Facebook more and more people are announcing healthy pregnancies and having beautiful children before bringing them into their shaky, unsteady worlds. Druggies are carrying full term. Beautiful, smart, unbroken children are being raised by the wrong people every day! Where is mine?! Why can’t I?! I know that I would be a better fit! And now that I started to heal I come to find that this may never be able to happen for us? This isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that you carve so painfully and so deeply into my heart to be a mom, to raise children up in your name, to love more deeply than the average, then take my babies. If you’re trying to build me up, I don’t think it’s working. I feel pretty weak right now. Weak and mad..

My anger has been so crippling the past few weeks, but something struck me in a new way today-you understand my pain, Lord. I know that you’ve felt worse. I know that you once made your son come to this cold, unforgiving world as an infant. I know that you watched him grow through all the wonderful stages of childhood until he was a man. I know that all the time you watched, you knew that when your son was 32 he would be killed by the people he came to save. I know that you sent your son to die for people like me, Lord, so that I could be forgiven when I turn around and point a  finger at you when times get rough. I know that we are all your children, and sometimes you lose us, and all because you gave us free will. I know that you understand my hurt, frustration, envy, and rage.

In the 23rd chapter of Psalms it says “The Lord is my shepard, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadows of death I will fear no evil, for you are there with me. Your rod and staff comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” I need a shepard now, Lord. I need you to restore my soul. I’m sorry I have spent the past month running away and avoiding you out of anger. I believe that through you nothing is impossible and in the words of my other mommy, Vicki, we believe in miracle babies. I believe there will be a rainbow at the end of this storm too. My cup is already overflowing. I am already so blessed.

Thanks for always stopping me before I wander too far away and for keeping me grounded. I’ll try to remember Romans 9:20. “On the contrary, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? The thing molded will not say to the molder, “Why did you make me like this,” will it?” That wonderful man you made for me reminds me of this all the time. Thanks extra for him.


Your not so heavenly daughter..


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