It has been a long time since I gave any credence to the saying that “everything happens for a reason.”  The first time something happens around you that is senseless and wrong the mind begs, “Why?  Why me? Why them? Why now? Why not?”  My momma also told me, no one ever said that life would be fair. I hate to give the impression that I am complaining about my own life.  I can’t think of a single legitimate complaint.  It’s when I see the suffering of my friends that I have to ask, “Why am I the lucky one?” Why was I blessed, and not them.   I am struggling with guilt.  And until recently, I would have told you that I am blessed beyond what I deserve.  And it’s killing me to accept it. The truth is, that I am not blessed.  God doesn’t love me extra, and he certainly doesn’t favor me over any other human. Like my own father, he wants the best for all of his children, and some of them are luckier than others when the chips fall to the ground. To finally accept that God knows just as well as I know that I do not deserve any better is to make peace with my own good fortune and to show gratefulness in the face of injustice to others.

I turn my heart to God and I want an answer.  I am angry.  If I clung to the “everything happens for a reason” argument, I would have turned away from God long ago.  For some things, there is no reason.  If God has a plan, a plan for each of us to prosper and to have hope, then what the hell do you call this world, where children are given a death sentence before they are given a birthdate?

I will never know why, and honestly, I don’t think there is a reason.  The world is a place full of ugliness and overflowing with both hate and compassion to those that are forced to face that ugliness, but I am not blessed by God to have felt the mercy of a safe home, of healthy children, of healthy parents, of loving relationships.  I am fortunate.  I am lucky.  I am aware that God does not bless in the way of big bonuses or even happy lives.  He blesses us all with the ability to come to him with our sorrows.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn,
for they will be comforted.

I am not blessed.  I am grateful, I am humbled and I am angry and I am heartbroken.  How could I not be?