Church

I keep on looking at churches. There's one that I've promised to visit, a number of times, just to check it out. Sunday comes -- and I just can't. It's not that my faith is shaken - I'm not quite an atheist yet - but.. I'm angry.

I see people talking about God's plan. I hear the opposite side, that God doesn't have a plan, s/he is just our creator and best friend, laughing with us in the good times and crying with us in the bad, but never leaving our side. To this I say - yeah, sounds nice.

Then I start thinking about miracles. Just how much do you have to pray for a miracle to happen? How much do you have to believe? I prayed for my son, I cried and screamed and begged. We didn't get our miracle. Why? Were we not good enough? Weren't we nice, generous people? That's enough to make you hate whoever it is that is in control.

And then I'm told, 'everything happens for a reason.'  Bull. I didn't sign up for this.

I still feel like there's.. something. I don't know, I'm not pretending to know. But if this force of the universe is really in control? Smiling benevolently on some and not others? Then I'm angry. I'm engraged. Honestly, I think this relates back to my Mary rant from December.

This is why I've been avoiding church. The anger has been building, and I've finally acknowledged it. I'll probably lull myself into believing that my own God is just someone to hold us while we're falling.

But I'm still angry, and hurt. I'm coping much better now, but apparently my heart is seeking to place blame somewhere, still.