It happened as I was laying on the floor in a steamed up bathroom watching my daughter sleep. The shower was running, so was the faucet. We were trying to loosen up the gunk in her lungs, we were trying to keep her out of the hospital.

When she’d start to cough, I’d hold her tiny body over my legs and bang on her back and chest the way the doctors had shown me. My body was so drenched that you couldn’t tell the difference from the sweat and the tears on my face.

The week prior had just been too much. I felt like my soul had been squeezed to the point that everything that I had once believed in had been rung out on the floor.  My faith, my trust, my humility. If all good things came from God, he was not present in my life.

There were no good things.

We were in Utah, still at the beginning of our trek across the country to move to Washington D.C.  I did not want to move, but there was no other choice. We were in too much debt. Between the medical expenses, the extra cost of care for Preston and Regan, we were just about sunk. We bought our house before the market crashed, so we couldn’t even get out of that. We had to move. The job in DC would be much better. It would pay for our home, our food, etc. It was what we needed, we just needed to get there.  Our car had broken down three times in the last week. Long story short, $4,000 we did not have later, the car was still broken, at the fault of the Toyota dealerships.

Every prayer I said was “answered” in the opposite. “Please help Abby to get better” -she got worse. “Please help us to resolve this issue with our car and the dealership”- they washed their hands of it. “Please help me to get some sleep” -there was none.

Finally in exasperation I threw my hands up at the sky and screamed, “Where are you now?! Where ARE YOU?!”

No answer.

I was angry. I was mad at God. If nothing else, being angry with him shows that I still believed. If nothing else.

That night on the floor of that sweaty room, my relationship with God changed in a way that would leave me believing less in him, and more in myself.

And the more I see how much I am in control of my life- that everything is MY choice- the better things get for me.

I don’t know what I believe about God anymore. I don’t know if it’s a person, and I definitely don’t believe it’s just one MAN because there is too much in this world that screams of being created by a woman. Maybe there is. Maybe there’s something else that I don’t quite understand. Maybe there’s nothing and all we have is our choices.

Either way, knowing that I choose my path changes everything.

 

 

 

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