Where Is God?

I want to believe that somewhere out there, in that great dark space beyond our own atmosphere, that there is a God who cares, hears us, and answers prayers.

But where is He when you really need Him? Yes, yes, I have had good things happen to me, things that never should have happened but did, like my fiance finding me after all the years we had been apart. And of course I consider all four of my children as blessings, along with my grandchildren, too.

But how much of anything that has happened to me been of God, and how much of it just happened ... for no reason at all except as a matter of course in the flow of human events, a natural outflow of being human?

I am beginning to lose my faith, for real. I do not want to become the person I feel myself turning into lately, and it distresses me. I remember when I was eight years old, I lay in my bed, the top bunk, in a small bedroom with my other three siblings, praying for God to simply make my dad quit kicking and beating my mother. As I lay there trembling in fear and helpless fury, wanting to kill my father as I listened to my mother's moans of pain, I remember very distinctly telling this alleged God, that if He did not stop my father, I would never believe in Him again.

Guess what? The beating finally did stop that night, but the same scenario happened over and over again as I was growing up, different victims in the family maybe, but always the fear, the pain, the name calling and the shame. Everything was such a big secret, too, you know. We were not allowed to ever tell Grandma what dad did to mom, could never tell our teachers what was happening in our house, lest we be punished for being "traitorous bitches." We did not know peace and quiet or the joy of having loving parents. I guess mom tried to maintain a facade of "normalcy"but she never took us away from him, even though she had a decent, loving mother of her own to bring us to. I guess worse things could have happened, so maybe it is not that big of a deal.

Yes, I agree ... many, many more people have had it worse than me and my siblings, like the Jews and others during the Holocaust of World War II. This, along with all of the other ethnic purges that have gone on since the beginning of civilization have to make us wonder ... where is God? How can a merciful and loving "creator" allow His creatures to suffer so much, incessantly tortured, humiliated, starved, diseased, beaten and killed? What kind of God is this? I begin to wonder at my sanity, it puzzles me so much.

Perhaps I should stop asking questions, stop asking "why?" Perhaps there really is no meaning to this life. It really is just as pointless and scary and crazy as I always believed it to be when I was younger. The false church my dad insisted we join so long ago, the Mormons, tried to convince me that we lived before this earth was created, and that we "chose" our earthly parents, chose when we would be born, and taught that we were as eternal as God, who they say was the literal father of our spirits as well as the creator of our mortal bodies. Well, guess what? I knew all along that this was false doctrine, as there was no way I would have EVER selected the two parents to whom I was born ... and I sure did not want to spend eternity as part of their "eternal family," another erroneous teaching of the Mormons (e.g., that all families will be "together forever" if they go to the temple and do the sealings etc. that allegedly bind whole family lines all the way back to Adam.)

Dad never kept the religion anyway; he made us join the church and was even baptized himself, but never participated in the religion beyond that point. He never quit smoking or drinking or running around on mom, either, so the whole thing was ridiculous. (Do as I say, not as I do edict.) Now that I have someone I can truly love and who loves me back, after all the years of no love, only hard times, I want more than ever to believe that there is a kind and loving God out there. But in my heart of hearts, I do not see how that is possible.

Is religion then only the opiate of the masses as early communists taught? Is belief in God even necessary to live a decent and moral life? I do not think so. I used to pray and ask God all of the time, when I was first baptized all those long years ago, if He would please let me talk to Him, or at least let me know if He heard me, let me know if he loved me. Guess what again? He never did. I was not asking for a sign; only for an answer, some little indication that I mattered to someone, somewhere.

Perhaps we only have each other. There is no God to save us and the way things are going, there is a very high probability that mankind will extinguish itself at some point in the not too distant future. I want to believe that we matter, that some great force out there beyond the sunset really cares about us, and will let us come home to Him one day. Life without hope is a terrible thing. Life without love makes it even harder. Aristotle said hope is a waking dream, but lately the dreams are too dark and crazy. I sometimes just want to go to sleep, curled up next to the man I love, and never leave our room, just stay where I feel safe and cared for and loved. But life pulls me onward, I have too much still to do, too many chores and earning a living, and no extra time to do the painting, reading and piano playing I enjoy so much.

I will continue to pray that there is a God and that He sent His only begotten Son to earth to die for our sins. I want to believe that the Lord loved us enough to die for us, and because I believe that, maybe one day all will be well.

"More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of." (Alfred Lord Tennyson)