I have so many questions running through my head these days that I just want answers to. So many “whys” that I so desperately wish I could find the reasons for.
But I can’t and I never will, because the one who I want to answer me, to explain, is one that never will.
I’ve never been one who can recite bible verses from memory. The only time I’ve ever even known all the books of the bible was when I had to memorize them in order, first to last, old testament and new, for my confirmation when I was fourteen.
I readily admit to not being educated in many of God’s teachings or understanding, as so many others do, His direction in His words. I don’t talk like the “Godly” do. I don’t fill my life with scripture to constantly keep me “in line” or “in check” with what He wants from me.
But I have never lost my faith in Him. I have never questioned His existence or the powerful hold He has in my life.
I have though, recently, found myself angry with Him. Very angry with Him.
Because I can’t, and never will, understand . . .why . . .
Why does my oldest son have to continuously face so much pain when he deserves so much happiness?
Why wasn’t it enough that he had to be abandoned by his mother and father at birth, only to be abandoned by his adoptive father by the time he was five years old? Why did he have to live a life of being abused, both mentally and physically, by his adoptive mother and step-father? Why is it that only now, after more than twenty years, his adoptive family is starting to realize how special and amazing he is when they should have known it from the very start?
And why . . . why . . .why . . . after all he has already been through, all the struggles life has given him, does he now have to face and fight the threat of cancer in his life?
I just don’t understand it and I just don’t know if I even want to try anymore.
I keep thinking of all of those who I come across in the world of adoption who claim God has control over everything that happens in our life. That it is His doing when a child is separated from his or her mother. That it is His hand that creates the loss and pain we suffer with.
And I wonder how they can truly believe that. How they can really look inside themselves, inside their belief, and hold on so loyally to such a thought.
I want those who believe such things to look me in the eye and to tell me that God meant for my oldest son to suffer, over and over again. I want them to explain to me why He would ever bring such a fate on someone who is good, worthy, and working to build a future that revolves around helping others, comforting others, and supporting them in a way he never was.
I want to know if they truly believe that my son has to suffer, I have to suffer, my entire family has to suffer because of some supposed sin I committed way back when I became pregnant. If they continue to hold their faith that this is God’s way and that somehow all the pain and loss and grief is meant to be.
I want them, or God, or somebody, to tell me why it is, after all my oldest son has gone through, that he still has to go through so much more. Why him? Why this amazing young man who never deserved anything that life has dealt out to him?
I just want to know why.
And yet, I know I have to accept that I never will know why. I will never get the answers I seek.
And I will never know, even if I ask a million times, why it is through adoption, abuse, and now cancer, my oldest son continually has to face so much pain in such a short life that he always deserved to have filled with good.