Where is God, even if he doesn't exist? I want to pray and to weep, to repent of crimes I didn't commit, to enjoy the feeling of forgive-ness like a caress that's more than maternal.
A lap in which to weep, but a huge and shapeless lap, spacious like a summer evening, and yet cosy, warm, feminine, next to a fire-place To be able to weep in that lap over inconceivable things, failures I can't remember, poignant things that don't exist, and huge shuddering doubts concerning I don't know what future A second childhood, an old nursemaid like I used to have, and a tiny bed where I'd be lulled to sleep by stories that my flagging attention would hardly even follow
and the recited adventures ran through infant hair as blond as wheat ... And all of this enormous and eternal, guaranteed forever and having God's lofty stature, there in the sad, drowsy depths of the ultimate reality of Things
A lap or a cradle or a warm arm around my neck... A softly singing voice that seems to want to make me cry... A fire crackling in the fireplace Heat in the winter... My consciousness listlessly wandering... And then a peaceful, soundless dream in a huge space,
like the moon whirling among the stars
When I put away my artifices and lovingly arrange in a corner all my toys, words, images and phrases, so dear to me I feel like kiss-ing them, then I become so small and innocuous, so alone in a room so large and sad, so profoundly sad!
Who am I, finally, when I'm not playing? A poor orphan left out in the cold among sensations, shivering on the street corners of Reality, forced to sleep on the steps of Sadness and to eat the bread offered by Fantasy. I was told that my father, whom I never knew, is called God, but the name means nothing to me.
Sometimes at night, when I'm feeling lonely, I call out to him with tears and form an idea of him I can love. But then it occurs to me that I don't know him, that perhaps he's not how I imagine, that perhaps this figure has never been the father of my soul ....
When will all of this end - these streets where I drag my misery, these steps where I coldly crouch and feel the night running its hands through my tatters? If only God would one day come and take me to his house and give me warmth and affection... Some-times I think about this and weep with joy just because I can think about it. But the wind blows down the street, and the leaves fall on the pavement. I lift my eyes and look at the stars, which make no sense at all. And all that remains of this is I, a poor abandoned child that no Love wanted as its adopted son and no Friendship accepted as its playmate.
I'm so cold, so weary in my desolation. Go and find my Mother, O Wind. Take me in the Night to the house I never knew. Give me back my nursemaid, O vast Silence, and my crib and the lullab that used to put me to sleep.
From a Christian perspective it can be hard at times to keep faithful when bad things happen. And I'm sure we have all asked the question once in our lifetime, 'But Why didn't God stop it'- Why didn't he stop Hitla from killing all the Jews, why couldn't he stop the girl from getting raped, why he couldn't stop her from getting cancer, why the poor child is dead because of a reckless action, why hasn't my parent changed or why is that individual still addicted.... 'Why didn't God stop it'. And what I have come to understand from this all is God, he gave us the free will to choose and as Pope John Paul II once said 'science and religion work hand in hand', sickness, disease they aren't foreign and it happens to the best of us. We tend to forget God and not realize, his spirit is living through each nurse, each doctor and each individual who is helping when a disease or sickness comes one's way. He can't always heal the sick, he can't always send down a crystal ball and end all suffering as much as he wishes to do for he suffered and questioned within his own lifetime. It is what makes us humans. And I wish we are taught such a thing as it happened for a reason' or 'pray, if you pray you will get cured'...
But that's not always the case. Sometimes things happen for no apparent reason but bad luck. And we need to stop fabricating and cultivating a reason to deny such a thing. God does not test our faith by instilling hardship within our lives but rather wants us to have faith in him despite the hardships of lives. Free will and luck play an immense role in this universe, a pretty powerful one too and despite God not always being able to control the hardship struggles and whether one gets ill or not he is there for us.
He is crying with us, he is rejoicing with us, he is questioning with us. I think the more Christians are told 'it happened for a reason' it makes them feel the need to understand why God didn't stop what happened or why it happened and that leads one down a ever so vicious and unnecessary spiral. It's about time we are told 'bad things happen to good people and God is there throughout the aftermath whether in heaven or on earth'. Telling someone "everything happens for a reason" won't put an end to suffering or ease the pain. So, instead of offering this advice when hard times come, and they will come, face the truth of a suffering world. Embrace suffering as a time to know Jesus more intimately and be His hands and feet to those around you. You can, and always will, draw God's goodness out of even the darkest situations, but only if you invite Him to accompany you there.
And maybe that's why...God didn't stop it- for what if he couldn't but he knew after it he will be your shoulder to cry on and the rock to lean on.
