Sunday, September 30, 2012


Last Sunday, the pastor of the church passed around little slips of paper asking everyone to write a question they have regarding God, faith, or the church. I truly believe that everyone should have questions regarding these topics - otherwise they are simply blind followers who don't truly believe. They say the love and believe in God because they were taught to do so... not because they truly love or believe in God... if this makes any sense?

Anyway, I, of course, had multiple questions. Well, it started with a complete mind-blank. I knew I had questions, but couldn't think of a single one. It took me some time, but I finally forced one out - something in regards to Baptism. But just before we were to turn these in, a second question came to mind. Why does God seem to "pick on" certain people - handing them more pain and suffering than others? And, I wrote this one down.

This question came as part of a minor self-pity trip I was on. And, since asking the question, that pity party has grown bigger, and the question more pertinent in my life.

And, I don't have the answer. I can't even come up with any good verses for this one... not because of not trying, but rather because I am still throwing my pity party. And no matter how many verses I find, I am not going to find an adequate answer at this point.

I could summarize all the pain and suffering I have gone through, but this would require a several page blog post... and it's already 11:30 and I have barely slept in 4 days. But just in the past 6 weeks - my father in law, whom I love as a father, was diagnosed for cancer. It's a very serious cancer; one which has only one end. No remission. No cure.

They finally let him come home a few days ago - Thursday afternoon. I left work a bit early to make sure the house was ready for him as he has trouble walking around. He came home around 4 that afternoon. I was so happy. Yes, I know the prognosis, but to have him home was so wonderful. As soon as he got there, it was chaos - unpacking the car, getting him settled in, helping get his medicines into a  tray for what to take when, etc.

A little after 6pm, I went back home to make sure the little ones were fed, and that my husband was ok. He had started running a high fever the night before - and as a kidney recipient, fevers need to be watched closely. I was only home for maybe 10 minutes, getting ready to head back to my in-laws. And suddenly I heard him fall. I turned quickly to see him unconscious in the hallway just outside the kitchen door. Things went from bad to worse and 911 was called. Anyway, to make a long story short - he had a severe foot infection which was causing the fever, and the passing out. And, which resulted in him being in a hospital room 2 hours away from me, and having all of his toes amputated.

What did he do to deserve all these health problems? What have I done to deserve this? My kids? Or how about my inlaws, whom, not only have had to deal with these two problems, but also with a daughter-in-law with heart problems and another with cancer (both in the past year), and mom having broken her ankle and having to undergo several surgeries, and 10 years ago them losing their entire home and farmstead demolished by a tornado?

People say to turn to God.   He'll give you strength. Pray and He'll make it right, and help you through it. But does He? Sometimes, maybe. But sometimes, I'm just not sure. I don't feel like He's helping me. I feel like He's picking on me. He has singled me out (well, and others too) and is torturing and tormenting me and pushing me well past my limit and not providing any strength.

I realize others have problems too. But well, I'm in the middle of a pity party. My inlaws don't deserve any of this. My husband doesn't deserve it. And my children sure as hell don't deserve all of this (or any of this). But, I keep praying anyway. Maybe I, too, am one of these who simply love and believe because that's just what we're supposed to do.

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