It’s almost midnight. I’m sitting here saying my prayers while crying my eyes out. There are so many people suffering in the world – so many unimaginable horrors, so many people with nothing, so many lost souls. Compared to so many people I have so many blessings, and yet I feel like my version of God has totally abandoned me.
One thing I’ve learned throughout my life is that if you wait quietly for someone to notice you, they won’t–no one ever looks at the mouse in the corner. They will walk past you, look through you, ignore you, not even notice your tears. I thought that God was supposed to be different – supposed to be the one that was there for you when no one even cared to look your way. But it seems that it’s true for God too; if I stay quietly in my corner, God will never turn to me. Even when I cry my eyes out, God doesn’t respond. I’m the nagging child who is spoiled and still asks for more. I am the worried wreck who has clothes, food, and shelter but still can’t relax. I am the mother who is watching her child worsen and can do nothing, and where is God?? Where is God now? Is God just sitting back, watching all this and saying “Whelp, can’t do anything about this now. She’ll just have to get through it on her own.”?
I have been worried for so long that Gracie will die before she’s an adult. It’s like the terrible reality that you know is there, you know is coming, but you just can’t accept it. It’s the scariest thing I can think of, and logic shows me again and again that it’s going to become reality. I worry so much about losing her – how could I ever go on without her? How could any of us? Why would God take such a beautiful amazing angel, or even threaten to?
Now, we’re trying to get the school district to give her an education – to accommodate her disabilities while still nurturing her amazing mind. For this, too, we have to fight. The school district first wanted to ignore her safety needs, now they are going to the other extreme and sending her to a school for profoundly disabled children. WHY does it have to be this hard? Why can’t they just be decent, compassionate people? Why can’t they just do the right thing without having to fight? Why does God continue to make it so hard for her, for us?
So here I sit, crying, praying, and typing. I will continue to fight for sweet Gracie. I will continue to help others, continue to light small lights wherever I can, continue to do good deeds not for some vague promise of whatever heaven holds but because it’s the right thing to do to help others. And I silently pray that someone will look at me, someone will offer the type of help that we really need, someone will see this kind little mouse in the corner and offer me a crumb instead of a kick.