There was one time I hated God and that was when my mother died almost ten years again. Today was the second time.
Let me explain myself.
April of 2004, my mother died of leukemia and I was 21 years old. I was still in college, I still went to bars and made out with random guys. At that time I wanted to numb all pain of exams, cancer and crushes on boys that when my mom was told that she had a month to live I started to hate God. My mother raised me as a Christian and she may not have been perfect, but she was honest in her faith. She fell in love with a God who loved her and saved her from a painful marriage with an alcoholic. When my mother was first diagnosed with cancer, the doctors at New York Presbyterian told my mother she had a 98% CHANCE OF SURVIVAL; unfortunately, she was the two percent. She prayed so hard and believed that she would be healed.
I hated Him so much cause he was taking the one person that was the most important in my life. To describe it in a few sentences, I was raised by a single mom, she divorced my dad because he was an alcoholic. She raised me, on her own, and taught me to be kind and loving; she was the world to me. When she made a promise, I believed her to the end and when she punished me it was because I was breaking the rules. She was my constant and then God took her away from me. Starting at 21, I made life decisions on her wisdom. My mother was the most adventurous woman I knew, she moved to a new country in her early 20s, nannied in England and then traveled throughout Europe. One of the coolest things she told me was that she saw the 1972 Olympics events in Japan when she was freaking 27. Four years younger than my current age!! Lets be honest, I wish I was her. Instead, all the wisdom that I wanted from my mother is long gone. I pray that I’m doing what she would recommend. I believe that she would have loved Jonathan, but the problem is that she never met him. She couldn’t give me the send off that her mother gave her; God took this most precious thing away from me. But I started to let go of this anger when I realized that anger is part of the grieving process. I studied it in High School and realized that there are so many emotions in one moment when someone leaves us. I wanted my mother so badly and there was no way God would go back and time and do bring her to me. It was His plan and as much as I hate it, and sometimes struggle with it, I have no control of it.
Today was the second day that God broke my heart and I couldn’t believe His perfect plan.
I met Kristin, a few years ago at a friend’s wedding. She went to Gordon College like me and graduated a year before. She was cool, friendly and held a great conversation, so naturally we friended each other on Facebook. She lived in SoCal, I lived in NorCal. We both enjoyed running and food, a perfect combo in my world. I swear, if we lived in the same area, we might be enjoying happy hour together. So we follow each other on Instagram, Facebook & NikePlus, naturally of course. With that you will see the random post, read it, make a comment or like it and then move on. In July, I had a feeling that she was pregnant and then read a more in-depth story. Her little baby had been diagnosed with anencephaly; a disease where the baby will be fine throughout the pregnancy, but would not be able to live outside of the womb. As soon as I read those words I burst into tears.
I haven’t stopped reading her story since the first posting and I have shed a tear each day. Kristin and her husband have been in my heart and prayers that I cried yesterday when I realized that was the day when their son, Branch Lionheart, came into the world, meet his parents and then would go home to Heaven in the same day. I was angry the whole day; to be honest, I hated everyone. I was crying because I wanted God to give them a perfect and beautiful son and I was angry that they had to say goodbye so soon; and I desperately wanted a miracle for them, whatever that looked like. Babies are innocent, wonderful and perfect and they don’t deserve to die in hours they were born.
Why God? Why?
I want to hate You again, God. I want to be angry at You for taking their baby away. But I know thats not the way it goes. A beautiful, little family, but they have peace. You have given them peace; a peace beyond all understanding. You have taught me what love is through them and I’m just so heartbroken for them. Babies are suppose to be perfect the moment they are born and right now all I want to do is cry for Branch. I want to cry for his Mom and his Dad, I want them to be starting December with a gorgeous baby and a perfect little boy. I cry because they hurt so, so, so much and that they have prepared themselves to say goodbye. I learnt so long ago that You are love. I’m working on remembering that right now.
I’m working on why I once believed, God. Please forgive me for being heart broken and angry again.