Mad at God

Everyone says it's okay to be mad at God.  But I admit it feels a little ridiculous.  Sometimes  my baby girl will get put down in a seat when she wants to be held, and this low pitched cross between a squeal and a growl will come out of her.  It's her "I'm angry" sound.  And I admit.  I laugh when she does it.  Her little tiny body gets all red and her fists clench and her mouth and eyes clamp shut and she just shakes around growling.  It's the utmost extent of her anger - and it's ridiculous. Sometimes I wonder if that's what we look like to God.

I also have the brains to know I have no right to be angry.  Nobody gets through life without a little bodily damage, and I am well over due.  Suffering is a part of the package and I know that.  I guess I was hoping I could float by with relationship and other life lessons sufferings. . .But we all have to suffer right.  I mean does anybody out there know anyone who gets through unscathed?  And I asked for a happy marriage and I've got one.  So it's gotta be something else.

As a Christian there is always the indisputable sign of the Cross.  Suffering: Jesus did it.  I've always nobly said that Jesus was so pure He could have redeemed humanity with a pin-prick.  Now I know that He had to die a horrible death because we never would have believed in His Love if He hadn't.

I feel like there is a big heavy boulder hanging over my head.  Yesterday was terrible.  Not only did I have to be away from my little girl all day, but I had to go into surgery - something I've never done before.  I was terrified the whole time and I think I started bawling like five times, including when they put me on the table.  When I woke up I knew we had bad news because of the look on my husband's face.  He tried to put a positive spin on it, but I know him.  He was disappointed.  Then the surgeon came around the corner and said "Bummer."

I wish someone would say "Hey it could be a lot worse!"  But the doctors don't say that.  They just keep saying "We don't know everything and we'll have more information later."  Big heavy boulder swinging over my head. 

I keep getting emails from people telling me to have a positive attitude.  But I really think that's unfair.  I HAD a positive attitude about the results of the biopsy.  I was convinced it was not cancer.  I was totally wrong about that and hence didn't prepare myself for the worst.  At least now I know better - I should be a little negative so when the surgeons say "bummer"  I'm not so completely devastated.  Again.  If this survival thing is a lottery - I'm a dead woman. . .  

And as for positive attitudes and being "chipper all the time"  I find it immensely hard to believe that Christ carried that cross with a smile on His face.  No way.  All the artwork agrees with me.  He and everybody who loved Him look pretty miserable.  If He was allowed to be miserable so am I. 

We don't know the extent of the horrible yet - but the cancer is not confined to my breasts.  They found a spot on my lymph nodes.  Great.  Can't I get SOME good news here?  Isn't it enough that I can't have any more children?  Does EVERYTHING have to be so stinking bleak?  Will Annamarie be deprived of a mother?

Whenever I have that thought I hear all the voices in my head that say "God knows best"  and "One day we'll understand how His plan was for the best."  That means that if I am slotted to die, I must have been a terrible mother who would have messed her life up something awful.  So I don't find that consoling at all.

So I'm not mad at God.  But I'm not happy with Him either.  I don't want any of this.  And the worst part is I still have no idea the extent of the horrors that are about to befall me.  That boulder above my head remains horrifyingly anonymous.