#4: Letter to God

I prayed so hard, God. I prayed harder than I've prayed in years. Does this mean You don't hear my prayers? People say you hear prayers: I've NEVER experienced that. Why, God? Why? Remember the candles I kept lighting in church these past weeks for this little baby? Remember the prayers to Mary, You, St. Catherine, St. Gerard, St. Gianna, John Paul II... remember those? All you saints: Were you listening? All those hours, praying fervently the words I had found online, with their calming and soothing words: "Sweet _____, intercede for me. Hear my prayer. Pray for me." What were they for? The prayers in church. Who heard them? And my life. I'm a public high school English teacher for disadvantaged kids. I was a good girl my whole life. I was good to my parents. I did well in school. I grew up in the church. I live by society's rules, God's rules. Is it because we used protection in our early years of marriage? Is this punishment for not allowing children into our marriage in the beginning? Tell me if that's so. That I can understand. But this great, cosmic silence... This unknowing. It's undoing me. And I don't know how to interpret it in any way other than thinking you're not listening, or that you don't love me anymore. If you ever did. Why would I think that?

Jesus suffers with me, right? I DON'T UNDERSTAND THAT. Why would He want me to suffer in the first place? Why create me only to make me die inside? I suffer from depression already (gee, can you tell?). Why make me defective? Why create me only so that I can suffer with each step I take in this world? I just don't understand. I don't understand. God never promised me a life without suffering. Okay. So life is by definition struggle and pain. But I don't want that. If that's the case, I reject it. I reject life. I don't want this that God has given me. Why take away my children's lives but let me twist and turn for 36 years of sadness? Let my children have life. I forfeit mine.

I apologize if I offend. I mean no disrespect, nor do I wish to write something that disturbs or challenges. I don't mean to blaspheme or profane. But I feel cast out. And I'd like God to know it. Maybe posting comments to this board will get His attention. My prayers certainly don't.