My Journey Home


I’ve had a lot of what I call the BIG FEELS this year – RAGE over the killing of innocent people (in the streets and in the death chamber); JUDGEMENT of people who refused to wear a mask or take proper precautions during a pandemic; GRIEF over the loss of so many lives, which leads back to RAGE over a government that is inept and callous about it all.

I’ve allowed myself to have all of these emotions and attempted to keep my balance, in part, by praying. I must admit, I did have an existential crisis at one point and for several weeks couldn’t pray at all.  Was there even a God?  How could a God allow so many to suffer?  How could he not punish those who fed all this divisiveness?  How could I have so much hatred in my heart and what does that say about me?

I picked up prayer again not because of my faith necessarily, but because I could not tolerate the thought that we were on our own, or that we caused all of this and would have to fix it.  It feels too big to fix.  I picked up prayer again so I had something to offer those grieving besides “I’m sorry for your loss.”  I picked up prayer again to assure myself that something/someone greater than myself existed, something with a wider, all-encompassing view, who didn’t get distracted but whose plan was being orchestrated as we speak, as we march, as we cry, as we rage…

I begged for a miracle for a little girl named Francesca.  If the miracle came, it came as a release of her physical body from pain, for she died on Christmas Eve. I struggle still with “how could a God…” because I needed a different miracle.  I needed the miracle where she awakens Christmas morning and her little body is healed.  Healed by all the angels I requested be sent.  Healed by all the love the world was generating towards her and her parents.  Healed because WE NEEDED THIS ONE GREAT THING TO HAPPEN IN 2020 to give us HOPE, but it was not to be.  Prayers are not always answered in the way we would like.  Plenty of stories in the bible illustrate this, not the least of which is when Jesus prayed “My father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me.”  And yet, He did not.  As believers, we interpret this as there having been a “higher plan” and we must accept that this is true for Francesca as well.  She is at peace, now we must find some.

Admittedly, I’m still struggling to find some.  And so, I pray.  I invite you to join me.

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This entry was posted on December 28, 2020 by in Grief, Prayer and tagged , , .
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