Yesterday I was walking into the gym and this car had a big sign on it. The car was telling me God goes to the ones that are suffering the most. I told the car I didn’t believe the words it had on its side door. The car then gave me “the finger” (which I thought was totally inappropriate for someone driving around with the words of the Lord on them, but then who am I to judge).

However, this got me thinking (as it always does or why else would I be writing about it). I started looking over my life, taking it photo by photo in my mind. As I mediated on the photos, I tried to recall if I felt God more at those moments. The answer was no I didn’t. In those moments, I felt God even less.

The first picture I looked at was myself at nine years old. It was the end of January and my dad was just in a horrific car accident. I searched my room for the best paper I could find. In my neatest handwriting, I wrote a letter to God. I asked him to please not take my father because I needed him and I loved him. Eight days later, He took my dad.

Children believe anything until you give them reason not to believe any longer. I was nine years old and I felt like God just gave me the big F.U.

Seven years later, I was in an ER hospital room and I was looking at my brain dead mother. I think I called God a son of a bitch and was beyond angry. How could this happen to me again? Why me? I was a good kid. I didn’t drink or do drugs. Yet, my parents get taken from me?

I was 24 and I had cancer. I just shook my head and laughed. I didn’t argue or curse. I didn’t even ask why.

Ten years later, I no longer question God. I understand His methods and His madness. I am honored that He would give me such painful lessons. He believed in me. He knew I would come out on the other side of all the pain in my life. Lastly, He knew I needed those lessons. I needed to learn compassion and empathy. In my life, I will meet others who will need my strength and my heart. I will need to create my own family. In a way, God gave me those people I placed in my family. So, maybe He did take my parents, but He gave me two wonderful children, a great brother, and He even let me keep some people that are blood related to me.

God and I are cool now. When He does something, I know I am just being asked to learn something. I don’t get mad anymore.

However, those times mentioned above, where was He? If God is supposed to be with the people who need Him the most, how did those events not qualify?

I am sure others will argue that He was with me, but I know what I felt. That loneliness and that despair is not God. That pain and utter shame is not God. He wasn’t there.

Maybe He wasn’t there because He knew I wouldn’t listen. I was too far down to hear anything. But He knew that in time, I would understand and come back to Him.

Although this blog sounds like I am uber religious, trust me when I tell you I am not. I haven’t been to church since I can’t even remember. I don’t normally preach to others or ask to testify to them. However, I am very curious and I do tend to think way more then I speak. I think religion and God is about seeking and gaining knowledge. God is a teacher and what good student doesn’t question his or her teacher?