The worst part

Searching for answers, comfort --something; I just finished reading C.S. Lewis' book: "A Grief Observed".  His words resonated with me even more than my own could have.  "It is not that I am in danger of ceasing to believe in God.  The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him.  The conclusion I dread is not, "So there's no God after all, but, "So this is what He's really like."


And that is exactly where I am.


When you have lived 60 years with God as a part of your reality and you've seen His hand in so many things.  You have seen answered prayers, talked to Him, sought comfort in Him, loved Him and felt His presence - nothing is going to suddenly erase Him from your reality.  What happens instead however, may actually be worse.  When a tragedy of this magnitude jerks the rug out from under you, blindsides you, completely devastates you - all the while you are continuing to pray, as every mother does, for the safe-keeping of her children - you can't help but wonder who He really is... He doesn't cease to exist but you are left wondering if He is really trust-worthy.  Like finding out your husband has been cheating - you don't suddenly cease to believe your husband really exists - but you suddenly realize he is no longer who you always thought he was.


Your entire world is shattered.
 
All of my adult life I had prayed for God to watch over and care for my children and always I truly believed He did --until He didn't.  And as devastating as this entire horrendous tragedy has been to me - "That" is the worst part.  Because that makes everything else in my entire life insecure.  Like maybe I have been skydiving with a kids backpack...  It has left me feeling defenseless. 


I know that death is a natural fact of life and I know that bad things happen to everyone.  In my conscious and rational mind - I am aware of these things.  I know I am not special and that God is no respecter of persons.  It rains on the just and the unjust.  These things I've known always.  These things however, never applied to my life in such a devastating manner.  Makes me question my own motives and beliefs.  Did I only claim to love God because I felt like He was my own private "Rabbits Foot".  Was I to accept like Job says all of the good God has given and expect none of the bad?


I hesitate to even include this here because I had hoped not only to get my grief on paper so that I could get it out and begin to heal but also at some point in that healing process this would be a comfort and inspiration to others.  I can't see this being edifying to anyone except to let you know, as C.S. Lewis did me, you are not alone in these feelings of anger and disillusionment.  


Some days are better than others.  Better.  Not good.  And if not for the fact that I have my sister to be responsible to I would retreat to the solitude of my closet and perhaps never come out.  She thinks she is a burden on me during this time - she is more likely my saving grace.  I am supposed to be taking care of her and the truth is she is taking care of me much more than the other way around.