So those are the two things I'm struggling with. I suppose I've always struggled with those things, but when Dad was diagnosed... No. Before then even. The day he was first admitted to the hospital, before the official diagnosis, I remember sitting on my bed after I'd hung up the phone and first moaning, and then screaming. No. Just NO. Because I couldn't face this. Because this was going to change my whole world. Because I knew my faith was not strong enough to make it through unscathed.

It's not fair that other people still have their dad's and it's not fair that my kids don't have a grampa. And they had the best one too. It's not fair that my mom is going on vacation alone, and it's not fair that Mike can't introduce his new girl to dad so he could tease her and make her laugh, and it's not fair that Jonathan doesn't have any pictures of Dad with Nathaniel, and it's not fair that my sister thinks about who she would ask to walk her down the aisle if she gets married. It's not fair that he was taken away from us. By cancer. Stupid effing cancer.

Not by God.

But even still, I am mad at Him. I'm like a little child screaming and raging against what I don't, and maybe can't, understand. And maybe my Father is trying to reach out to me. He's trying to explain it to me, or maybe just to say, "I know. I know it hurts. But I can't fix it the way you want me to," the way I do when Ben or Sam or Hannah want things they can't or shouldn't have. And just like them I DON'T CARE. It's not fair and I want what I can't have. And maybe there's a reason and maybe there's not, but I DON'T CARE. I want my Dad back. I want stupid cancer to have never happened. I want God to fix this, and the longer I have to wait for what I want the more I blame Him.

Even though I know, the world's not fair. Jesus knew that. He lived and died it. It's not a fair place and if it was we would have lost my dad forever instead of for now.

Even though I know, God didn't take my dad away. He didn't save him, not the way I wanted Him to, but He didn't take him away. Maybe there was a reason, a meaningful reason, but maybe the reason was just that there's this thing called stupid cancer, and some people survive it and some people don't. This world is full of pain, and mine isn't remarkable, and I don't have to explain every bad thing to believe in the good things. I do believe.

But oh, it hurts. Every day it still hurts.

I think back to that afternoon sitting on my bed crying and feeling sick and scared and trying to tell myself that all my worst fears couldn't possibly come true, that there had to be some hope. And there wasn't. That hurts. Not as much as it hurts to know that this part of my life is the part with no Dad, but it's there underneath... And I still can't seem to find a way to dig it out so I can start to... I don't know. Something.


  1. It isn't fair.
    I ask why everyday.

    Like why do crappy dad's get to stay around and treat their families horribly when our awesome dads were taken away from us?

    Blah. It just sucks.

    Hugs to you. :)


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