God took my mom

God took my mom. 

When I was 6 years old and knew nothing about life. 

Before I had a chance to know her. Long before I would have a way to remember her. 

He took her. 

And I grew up never having a mother.

If God can see all, if God knows all, if God is in control...did He not think I would want a mom? 

Or deserved a mom? 

Or needed a mom? 

Did He not care how painful it would be? Did He not care how awful it would feel? 

Did He not care about me at all?

Because I thought when you loved someone you wanted the best for them. You sacrificed for them. You made sure you did everything in your power to help them.

And it didn't feel like God helped me. It felt like He punished me.

And I had no idea why. 

I just knew I hated it. 

And there were moments that I hated Him. 

When you're little, no one comes up to you and tells you it's going to be ok. 

Most don't come up to you at all. 

Because people shrink from talking about death. 

They don't know what to say so they don't say anything. 

And that just makes you feel like you shouldn't talk about it either. 

So you just smile. And say you're good. And keep your hurt inside. 

And hope no one notices how different you are.

If I could only talk to my younger self now. If I could only have a moment to pull her aside and let her know she would be ok. That she would grow up to be strong. And compassionate. And capable.

If I could only let her know, that this pain would become what made her never go to bed mad. That it would make her not be scared to tell people they were important. 

That she would never shy away from telling people she loved them. Or be worried what people thought because she insisted on hugging. And looking for the good.  

If I could only have a moment to tell her that this loss would become what pushed her to make sure people knew, especially young people, that they could overcome hard things too. And that her greatest joy would be to find opportunities to cheer them on. 

If I could just talk to her and tell her to hold her head up. That God had not punished her. 

That God had not let her down.

And that God would walk with her each step of the way without her mom. 

I can't go back to tell her, but I can make sure to never forget.

How my greatest pain became my greatest purpose.  

And I can make sure to pass the message on. 

If you're facing a loss. 

If you're feeling like God has taken someone away from you.

If you're mad. If you're doubtful. 

If you're in the middle of hating God.

I'm here to tell you to hold on to hope. To surround yourself with people who remind you of the good. To believe your loved one is not gone, that they live on in you. That their life may have ended here, but it has not ended entirely. That their heart still beats inside of you. Their goodness still lives on inside of you. That each breath you take is a living testimony to a love that never ends. That they don't have to be here to make a difference. That your life is the difference they make now.

So choose kindness. For them.

Choose gratefulness. For them.

Choose forgiveness. For them.

And most of all, choose to go on living. For them.

Because even on the days it doesn't feel like it. 

Even in the moments you don't care. 

God loves you.  

I know the pain is hard.

I know it. 

But there is a bigger picture we will never see.

And a bigger plan we will never know.

I used to think the truth was that God had punished me.

That He took my mom from me. 

But the truth was my mom was God's child before she was my mom.

He loved her first.

He didn't take her from me. 

She wasn't my belonging.

She was His blessing.  

And though it took me awhile I realized, His blessing never left. 

It still remains.

And I promise one day you will see,

that it remains for you too.  

 

I know you're mad at God

I know you're mad at God.

I know you're doubting anything you ever believed about Him. 

I hear you telling people He can't be real.

Suggesting He's a fairy tale.

Spouting your hatred of Him because you're mad at what you think He's done.

You look at this world and you see the pain.

You see the corrupt.

You see the evil.

And you tell yourself a good God wouldn't allow bad things.

A good God wouldn't let people fall.

A good God wouldn't,

couldn't,

shouldn't,

sit back while His children suffer.

And so you reject anything that remotely suggests that God is on the throne.

Because you want nothing to do with serving a God like that.

But you can't base your faith on what others have done.
Because you'll see their failures,
you'll see their shortcomings,
you'll see their moments of hypocrisy,
and you'll decide that their flaws are the reason why God can't be real.
Not a God you want to believe in anyway.

But just like your body can't survive on what someone else has eaten,
your faith can't survive on how someone else has lived. 

You have to have your own conversation with Him. 
One in which you ask the hard questions.

And you stop to listen for the answers.

That's the hard part. The stopping long enough in your anger to listen. 
The quieting your mind long enough to hear Him speaking to your heart.

But the hard parts in life are often the most necessary. 

The hard parts are often the ones that help us the most. 

You've turned from God because someone else has sinned.
You've lost your faith because someone else has failed.
But their sins don't prove that God doesn't exist. 
And their shortcomings don't prove that God has fallen short.

It just proves we live in a fallen world. 

A world that breaks His heart too. 

I know you're mad at God. I know you think He's let you down.

You've told the world your pain.

It's time to tell Him.

He knows you've walked away. 

And He's waiting for you to come home. 

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

²¹ “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

²² “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³ Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. ²⁴ For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ Luke 15: 20-24