Three days ago was the 10 month anniversary of my daughter's death. It was a bad enough day, but then while at the doctor for my wife's appointment, we saw a little girl wearing a pair of Caira's pants that had been sold at a yard sale (we live in a small town in AZ, and got the pants in TX, so we know they were hers). That made the day worse, as ten million memories flooded my head. Later that day at work, I worked a single vehicle rollover, and the initial report was a child had head injuries. (That's how Caira died. Fortunately, this child was fine.) Overall, it was an awful, awful day.
So, as I sat mired in misery on Thursday, I realized that contrary to the old adage "it gets better with time", it's getting worse. I miss her more every day, and I find I am becoming more resentful and jaded every day. In the first months after her death, I was able to trust that God was in control and everything was happening for His purpose. I am having a hard time holding on to that belief right now. I can't see any possible good coming out of my innocent 2 year old daughter being killed in a freak accident. I can't see any good coming out of the daily suffering my wife endures because of her paralyzation.
I want to have faith, I want to trust God to work miracles and make all things work for his good, but it's getting harder. I'm mad at the situation in general, always have been. But lately I find I am turning some of that anger towards God and not really worrying about it. That scares me.
I struggled with and eventually turned away from my faith for a long time because of the things I saw my dad go through as a minister. I had just begun to truly grow in it again when the accident happened. Now I am beginning to wonder again. It's easy to say "give it to God"; but when I look at pictures of my daughter and her gorgeous smile, and I remember holding her in my arms as she died; and I realize that I will never again hold her, hear her laugh, watch her play and grow; I can't help but be so angry that I don't want to give it to God. When I watch my wife cry because she can't get on the floor and play with our other daughter, or do menial household tasks, or use the restroom on her own, I can't bring myself to believe this is in any way anything but punishment for something. Maybe Catholics have it right, and there is a Purgatory. I'm just geting mine out of the way now.
Whoever said it gets better with time obviously never lived through it.
So, as I sat mired in misery on Thursday, I realized that contrary to the old adage "it gets better with time", it's getting worse. I miss her more every day, and I find I am becoming more resentful and jaded every day. In the first months after her death, I was able to trust that God was in control and everything was happening for His purpose. I am having a hard time holding on to that belief right now. I can't see any possible good coming out of my innocent 2 year old daughter being killed in a freak accident. I can't see any good coming out of the daily suffering my wife endures because of her paralyzation.
I want to have faith, I want to trust God to work miracles and make all things work for his good, but it's getting harder. I'm mad at the situation in general, always have been. But lately I find I am turning some of that anger towards God and not really worrying about it. That scares me.
I struggled with and eventually turned away from my faith for a long time because of the things I saw my dad go through as a minister. I had just begun to truly grow in it again when the accident happened. Now I am beginning to wonder again. It's easy to say "give it to God"; but when I look at pictures of my daughter and her gorgeous smile, and I remember holding her in my arms as she died; and I realize that I will never again hold her, hear her laugh, watch her play and grow; I can't help but be so angry that I don't want to give it to God. When I watch my wife cry because she can't get on the floor and play with our other daughter, or do menial household tasks, or use the restroom on her own, I can't bring myself to believe this is in any way anything but punishment for something. Maybe Catholics have it right, and there is a Purgatory. I'm just geting mine out of the way now.
Whoever said it gets better with time obviously never lived through it.