Tag Archives: questions

I Wondered..Why Me?

I Wondered..Why Me?

I found myself yelling up at God.  Pointing up to the ceiling …. “YOU!  You did this!” “How could You?!” and in the next breath, with tears running down my face, “Why God, Why?”   There’s my boyfriend who had just taken his life and here I stood.

Devastated.

Confused.

Angry.

My heart ached.

My tears fell.

My soul hurt.

And nothing made sense.

I knew, like I KNEW, that God had put us together. There is no way I would have met this man otherwise.  My prayers were answered when he came into my life.  It was a miracle.  That’s all I can say.  A miracle.  So WHY?  WHY oh WHY would God have this happen?  I had no answers.

What seemed like hours …were only minutes.   I stood there yelling to the heavens.  Pointing up, still.  I continued to question God, to yell at God.  The God of the Universe.  The God of ALL.  The God who knew far more about me and my life than I could possibly ever know or thought that I already did know.  And I was yelling at Him?  “Why ME?  You knew I was coming!”  I shouted.  “You knew I would find him!  You picked me to find him.”  “WHY!?”

I was furious.  Furious that my boyfriend died.  Furious that here I was all alone.  Furious that God picked me to find him.  If God knows all… well then He knew I was going to be there that day, right?  Then He picked me, right?   Tears.   Anguish.  Upset.

And just as fast as a flash of lightning hits a flagpole. I was struck by the Holy Spirit.  My crying changed from tears of maddening rage to honorable blessing.  God picked ME.  ME!  He picked ME!  A powerful chill ran through my bones.  I was God’s miracle in David’s life….his channel of love.  I was picked because I was the one who would take care of it all.   I was God’s Warrior.

I had a sense of gratitude.  Don’t you see…. Why Not Me?  Out of the people who could have loved this man, out of the people who could have honored this man, out of the people who could have made a difference in this man’s life and who would turn this tragedy into something good.  God picked ME.  Why Me?  Oh darling…. Why Not Me?

Your God Girl,

Tracy

An Open Letter To My Daughter

Daughter,

When I told you that your father and I were getting divorced it was probably the saddest thing I have ever had to do. We were in the bathroom. I sat on the closed toilet lid and you were across from me on a step stool. I don’t know why I chose that moment. Maybe because it was quiet, because you seemed like you were paying attention. I didn’t think about what I was going to say before the words escaped. I wasn’t prepared for the questions your 5-year old self would ask. I just dove in, head first into concrete, because I needed you to know. I needed you to know why we weren’t sleeping in our own beds and why your clothes were in a suitcase and why I would cry while I ate dinner, or dried my hair, or did just about anything. I needed you to know from me, from my words, that our life was never going to be the same, me and your Dad. Because telling you made it final. Telling you that I had failed, I had failed my one big job, was something I could never take back after I said it and I knew this. I knew that telling you would mean I would never turn back.

Then, I needed you just to know we weren’t going to be married anymore.

Now, I need you to know it wasn’t your fault.

And in the future, I will need you to know why.

You wept. You didn’t just cry. You threw yourself onto the cold, tiled floor, and yelled at me.

“But why, why can’t you just stay together? Why?”

I bit my lip and I thought carefully for a pause.

“Why can’t you just love each other? Why can’t we just be a family?”

How could I tell you that the reasons why I can’t stay are heavier than you, taller than you, bigger than you, older than you? They are heavier than I can carry alone, and I carry so much. I am tired.

You made it sound so simple and yet this decision, this life, is so complicated. I made myself believe, I convinced myself with such will, that this could be simple. It was simple to uphold vows and forgive.

But the cost, it was so high. I tried to tell him. I tried for so long and he would never hear me. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t want to anymore.

You asked very grown up questions for a very little person.

You asked me if I was angry with him. You asked if I would always love him.

You have asked me this many times over, many nights later. My answer is always the same.

“No, I am not mad at Daddy. Yes, I will always love him.”

This is a truth; this is also a lie.

You see, I am not mad at your father. I am mad at the man that was supposed to be my husband. He let me down in small and large ways that cannot be undone. This is for me to hurt from. This is for me to learn from. This is for me to try and protect you from.

I will always love the man I once knew, the man that gave me you.

Without him, I would never know what tiny fingers wrapped around my necklace felt like. I would never know your big, contagious laugh or the sound of your off-key singing. I would never see your big, scrawled handwriting and doodles with hearts. I would never know that you think your eyes are the color of chocolate and mine are the color of blueberries. I would never know how to remove permanent marker from skin, or nail polish from carpet. I would never know clumsy hands braiding my hair, or stinky feet in my face in the middle of the night. I would never know what it felt like to love something more deeply and more naturally than I do you.

And to that end, without your father, I would never know just how badly it must hurt to know that the two people who were supposed to love each other as much as they loved you, shouldn’t stay together.

But, my little girl, know that I thought about this long and hard. And when I thought about leaving my marriage, the last person I thought about before I did…was you.

I thought about what I want for your life. I thought about the kind of man I want to love you, take care of you, hold you. I thought about the kind of smile I want you to have not just on your wedding day, but on an ordinary day. I thought about the unending respect and independence I want you to have for yourself; the inner strength to know the difference between enabling and empowerment. I thought about how much more I not only wanted, but expected for you and I realized that in order for you to recognize and chase these things, I had to want them, demand them, for myself.

And yes, I thought about what it would feel like to sit at your wedding and watch your father-daughter dance with a man who would no longer be my husband. The thought of disappointing you put a pit in my stomach. Disappointing you for expecting more for your life than I had mine. I feared what you would have thought of me twenty years from now, knowing I devoted my life to teaching you to be more than me, all the while expecting less than for myself.

Someday we will talk, woman to woman. But for now, know that this was not your fault. Know this. Hear this. Believe this.

I did my very best.

Know this.

Hear this.

Believe this.

I loved your father with a love that was more than love.

In the end, my love for him was not a reason to stay.

My love for myself was a reason to leave.

My love for you was a reason to keep moving.

Know this.

Hear this.

Believe this.

~Jessica-Awesome Single Mama