God…I Don’t Understand

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~ This is for my cousin, who’s spouse is hurting. May God be with you, family ~

God,
I’m mad as hell at you right now, because you could have done something different to change the outcome, Lord. I’m so upset with you, that I can’t even fix myself to form a prayer, with my lips. I’ve heard it said, that you never give anyone more than they can handle. Well, you must be trying to kill me, because I can’t handle this. I am a strong man, capable of conquering whatever I set my mind to. But I can’t handle this.

God…I don’t understand. Why did you take my baby away from me?

No parent should ever have to endure the loss of a child. She should have seen me off, when my time eventually comes, to go home. Instead, you took her from me. Her passing wasn’t even subtle. She had to experience a pain I can’t even imagine. Why would you do that, God? I don’t understand!

I want to curse your name; I want to turn my back on you; I want you to come down here, where I can lay hands on you. I want…I want…I…want…

I want you to take this pain away from me. I want to believe that she is in a better place. I need to know that she will suffer no more. I want to know that I’ll see her again…if not here, then in that other place: Heaven. I need you to help me. I can’t make it through this on my own!

But I’m not alone. I guess…just maybe…you are helping me. You gave me a strong woman to stand beside me. She knows me like no other, and in the darkest part of the night, when I’m at my lowest, she’s right there beside me; loving me and praying for my baby. She carries my burden, when I can’t. In my grief and anger, her love is true and resilient.

I want to be angry, God. But my wife’s genuine love stunts the sting of rage; turns it inside out, and transforms it into humble mourning. I have a hole in my heart, where my baby once rested. But through my wife’s love, my heart is still held together, despite the hole that will never seal. My heart hasn’t shattered.

God…I don’t understand; I don’t know why you reclaimed my child, in the prime of her life. And though I’m mad at you, I need you to do something for me. I need you to give her a message.

Tell her that I love her. Tell her, that a day will never pass that I won’t think on her. Tell her that I’m sorry for things unsaid and not done. Tell her…to watch over us. Tell her to rest.

God…I don’t understand; but I’m counting on you to make it better. Show me who you really are. Help me to live…without my baby. Lord, help me…please.
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