One Request of God

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Flip Flop.”

It’s a pretty common change when someone get’s ill that they start looking for answers.  Too many times I just can’t wait to get out of the doctor’s office and start thinking about the universal reasons why something happens, but it always ends in a roadblock that has followed me since my youth.  Matching all of my book learning with the teachings of any religion.  Where does a Deity enter the picture when my understanding needs to be set aside.

Science talks about the Big Bang and what might have come before it.  Scientists agreeing in some manner that matter can’t be created or destroyed, just sort of shuffled around.  So part of who I am today could have been part of who someone or something else was a thousand years ago.  It just happened that my puzzle was put together in a certain way.  Genealogy out the window and now I have to wonder if the carbon in my body was once part of your great-grandmother.

It brings me to my thoughts on God.  I truly have no words for my discomfort with organized religion.  The theories are nice, but some of the ways people put them into effect makes me shake my head.  Collecting money so you can build a new addition while the people living behind your dumpster might not have a meal to eat.  It’s confusing.

I have wondered to myself, “Why God, why are you doing this to me?!”  But yet I question his/her existence.  The entire time that the ex was pregnant, I was making every promise I could.  Vegas Blackjack dealers aren’t moving this quickly to hedge their bets.  Take five years off me life, just to make sure she was healthy.  I’ll spend every waking hour donated to some cause, just please let things be okay.  Every test working out, every sign saying thumbs up.  I figured I was going to owe someone big time.  Later when she died, for no reason that I can comprehend, God was the person I blamed.  God was the person I prayed was watching over her until I could once again.

And then I got sick.  And it felt like a cruel joke.  All of my wanting to be with my daughter, spend more time with her was a possibility.  And I got angry with God once more.  But then I started to wonder if this was the prayer he was answering.  Maybe that was the reason the ex left, so that it was less painful for her if I had to go.  Sure that’s putting so much more of a positive spin on the way she handled things.  Just walking out the door without a word.  Another cruel joke?  My “cross to bear”?

Yesterday I had to admit my screwed up head was affecting the way I handle things.  The doctor’s still not sure how I function when all I have done is continue to bury the pain rather than acting out on it.  I sat at the kitchen table for an hour just staring at the flower I have there representing my daughter.  Talked to it like she were still in the room, asking someone to make sure she was safe and  happy wherever she is.  Please let her know I love her more than anything I have ever known.  And that the pain of that hurts so deeply.  Praying to a god to watch over her mother, knowing it’s silly, maybe even making me pathetic in the attempt.  But her safety is just as important.  Knowing Mother’s Day is next week, only adding to the urgency of my request.

I don’t know if I believe in God, but I need to believe that somewhere, someone is watching over that little girl.  The thought of not seeing her again, terrifies me.  I wish it didn’t, but it does.  So God, please just do this one thing for me.

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