Dear God

Dear God,

I am angry at you. I am mad at you. In elementary school one of my teachers told us that people get angry and dogs get mad, but I know now that mad is also used to describe a sort of out-of-your-head type state. And so I am angry at you, and I am also mad at you.

You know that already, I know. But I want to clarify. Yes, I am deeply perturbed that you took my son to heaven, except that doesn't make sense to my analytical self. He was hurting, had been hurting for a very very long time. So taking him to heaven relieved his pain and afforded him eternal comfort and Love. Thank you for comforting and loving him. But I cannot understand how you allowed him to hurt for so long. How you allowed him to be hurt in the first place. He asked me once if you were dead. He asked me if you hated him. I didn't tell him that sometimes I think the one you hate is me. I prayed to you for eleven years to keep my baby safe, and to bring him home. What gives? How did you allow him to be so ignored, so hurt, so broken? To lose touch with all that is good and beautiful and joyous and holy? I prayed that you would send someone to love him and take care of him. OK, so he had a few people to love him, but it seems from afar. Thank you for those people who loved him at least. But why!? How!? Where were you? How did you allow this to happen to him and for so long?

I know, I know. Adam and Eve sinned and sin befell man, humanity. I get that. But this child here is my son. Couldn't you have protected him? And what were you two talking about in there when he was supposed to be falling asleep? He spoke as if he were some type of martyr or something, telling us over and over that he was going to heaven. Telling me over and over that he wasn't going to be able to go with me to tell the world to do right by children in foster care and by children who have disabilities, but that I should do it. Asking me over and over, "what will you do when I am gone?" Hmmm. He also wanted me to tell people not to take children from their mothers who love them. So, dear God, please don't take children from their mothers who love them.

Yes, I know, I know. Mary's Son was taken from her, and Jesus saved the world. Thank you for that, for Him, really, truly, sincerely. But this child here is my son. And I am angry at you.