Monday, September 30, 2013

My God conundrum.

Tonight, I am anxious.  No, I'm scared out of my ever-loving mind.  I'm not sure if I'm coming or going.  I've been holding Josiah most of the evening and fighting back tears as I go.  Tomorrow is the day of his open heart surgery.  
I've never understood those who argue that God can't exist because of all the hurt in the world.  But, lately I've been questioning Him.  Not His existence mind you, just Him.  I find myself asking what I did, or even what Jo did to deserve Downs, heart problems, developmental delays, you name it, I've questioned it.  And, before you post the comments that I know are coming, let me just say, I know the answers.  I know the phrases that are "right".  But, still I question.  I've even found myself bargaining with God, "you heal Josiah, and I'll be better."  Totally the opposite of any theology I've ever had.  As if God needs my better for His will to be carried out.  
I asked several weeks ago for people to pray to God that He be glorified through all of this, no matter what.  As the heart surgery has gotten closer, I find myself praying less.  Not because I don't believe, but because for the first time in my life I find myself in a bit of a God conundrum.  I'm angry.  I'm angry all the time.  And at times I blame God for that.  I'm scared.  I'm scared all the time.  And at times I blame God for that too.  And then I put on my happy, brave, faithful face so that no one knows whats really going on inside of me.  I'm broken.  
And so, here I am tonight, anxious, scared, angry, in tears as I watch my son, knowing that tomorrow he undergoes something that I have no control over.  I have no control.  And though I "know" no matter what that God has control, I am hesitant to let Him have it.  Do you see the conundrum? I can't let God have something that I don't even have anyway.  
I know so many of you are praying for Josiah, and praying for us, and for that I am thankful.  We need, we covet those prayers.  But, tonight, I hope that you'll pray that God helps me solve my conundrum.  I hope that I'll get over the anger, that I'll let go of the worry, that I'll be rid of fear.  This is my desire. 


  1. When Brett (our son) was diagnosed and ultimately died, I was SO mad at God. I believed in Him and I knew he was there, but I was so angry. I couldn't pray - there were no words. Tonight, I'll say your prayers for you, just in case you can't. That's what my friends did for me and I will be forever grateful.

  2. Hello, friend: I'm glad you're writing, and I'm glad you've got all these emotions. With every anger, frustration, doubt, questioning feeling is proof that a father loves his son and wishes things were better for him. I'm so sorry that he has to go through this surgery, and I'm sorry that you all have to let him.

    Please know I'm thinking about all four of you tonight. Love, kelly

  3. Bobby, I'm speechless. I'm staring at the screen trying to think of how to communicate... well, a lot of things.

    I'm proud to call you my brother. Your honesty... thank you.
    I love you, and I hate that you're going through this.
    In a tiny way, I understand. I've gone through and still go through these exact feelings and questions because of Kara's health.
    I'm proud of you. Kara and I always say that if anyone we know would be the perfect father for a special needs child, it's you.

    No platitudes. No scriptures. No promises. In this moment, I'm just praying for you, Lesa, Josiah, and Lydia.