Facts and fallacies

Unable to conceive for 14 years.
God answers prayers.
Dear God, I have been praying to you daily for the past 14 years. We are devout Christians. We attend Mass every Sunday, volunteer on parish committees, and donate large amount of time and money. Our son has attended catholic school since kindergarten, and serves as an alter boy. We aren't asking for material things or even a miracle. All we want is to share our love and home with another child, one more baby, because we have so much to give. We would give him a good life, Lord, as you see how we try so hard to live by your rules and be good people. Please, God. We have suffered with infertility for a long, long time. We have tried lifestyle changes, relaxation, and medical treatment. We need your hand in this God. Please help us. We have faith. We have faith that you will see our worthiness, and bless us with another child. Please, God. It has been fourteen years. Please acknowledge our humble begging. In your name we pray, Amen.
God gives me a miscarriage at 7 weeks.
God knows what is best for you.
Lord, I thank you for the attempt at making our dreams come true. I must have done something wrong to make it not turn our the way we'd hoped. Please forgive me of all my sins and errors I have surely made along the way, and give me another chance. I will do everything in my power to serve you in reverence and gratitude. My vocation is that of caring and easing other's sufferings. Allow me to expand that love for mankind to nurturing a tiny soul. Please, Lord, we trust in you to help us to do your will. St. Gerard, protector of pregnant mothers, we ask you to intervene on our behalf. Holy Mary, mother of God, please pray for us. Amen.
By the grace of God, I am allowed to carry a beautiful, perfect baby boy to term.
God answers prayers, but sometimes, you won't like the answer you get.
Nicholas Gerard died as the result of not one, but two knots in his umbilical cord.
God has a plan.
Dear God. I do not know what your plan is for us, or what your plan was for our little Nick. I am struggling to find the "good" to come of this, but trust that your all-knowing reasoning is beyond our mortal comprehension. Please keep him at your side and know how strongly we grieve our loss. Please help us through this difficult time and forgive us as we question your plan. We struggle with our faith, Dear Lord, but believe that for everything there is a reason. Please help us to find what that reason is, and how this experience can help us to grow as Christians and human beings. Please help us to realize our dreams as we try again for another child, Lord, because I know that you are trying, and surely it is I who am at fault. Please, by all that is good and holy, allow us to birth a live baby. Amen.
Sometimes the answer is "NO".
Little Girl Angel, 13 weeks, is purged, intact and in her watery tomb, from my uterus - without explanation.
Ok, God. You've got my attention. What is your point? Tell me, and I will fix whatever it is you're so pissed about. This passive-aggressive behavior is not winning you any points in my book. I can understand the infertility, if that's what your goal is - no more kids for me - but you have GOT to explain why you are killing my babies. It makes no sense! None whatsoever! Why, on your green earth, would you create life and then take it away - repeatedly - just like that? Innocent souls who deserved a chance to be better than we poor, wretched, miserable sorts who only wanted to love them and raise them to be good people. We are told that you are perfect and make no mistakes. So it must be me, huh? The miscarriage I can chalk up to poor lifestyle in the 15 years you ignored our pleas and I gave up "trying". You caught me off guard. My bad. I can even accept the most recent loss, possibly due to increased stress and who knows what other fault I can pin on myself. But Nick? Try as I might, I absolutely CAN NOT wrap my head around that one. As perfect as you may be, there is a design flaw in that whole umbilical cord business you created. Unless, of course, it somehow is Nick's fault he got all tangled up. Oh, but babies are completely innocent and without sin. Would you prefer me to believe my own stress levels caused him to become too nervous and *that's* how he developed the knots? Nope, no way, nuh-uh. Ain't gonna believe that one for one minute. Sorry. Ya lost me. The only reason my stress levels were so high anyway, is because You have taken babies from before, Dear Lord, and I worried as if it would make a difference. I'm a whole lot angry at you right now, God, but all my years of good, solid, Christian upbringing is causing me to feel guilty about my anger, and question my worth. Maybe my faith wasn't as strong as I led myself to believe. Maybe you had a good reason for teaching me a lesson. I'll have to mull that one over a bit. You have said before that you are always with us, and will be here for us in our time of doubt and need. I'm doubting now. I'm only seeing that one set of footprints, God, so I sure hope it's because you're lifting me up from this funk that I'm in.
Is God keeping score?
Ok. So. My friend is dying from cancer. A slow, painful death. Quite possibly this could be explained in a variety of ways. And then there's my mother in law, who is old. So very old. And Jim, who was not old, nor did he have cancer. It gets a little harder to explain that one, but much like catastrophic events and plain old accidents, sometimes, shit just happens. Sometimes repeatedly. To the same people. And this is where I wonder, why?
Is there "a plan"?
If you are a compulsive link-clicker, good for you. I aim to please. And perhaps you are wondering why I keep referring back to this same site. It is not for endorsement, as I don't even know who the group is that sponsors it. They have a few good points to ponder. And these same arguments are ones that I have been pondering for years; the difference being that *I* am unable to articulate them in a way that makes sense. So here's more.
A most compelling point.
I think what finally drove this home to me, was sitting there listening to the preacher during Jim's funeral service. I have not attended another funeral since Nicholas was buried. I've been to another memorial, which was sad and lovely, and fitting for the family (whom I can only imagine did not wish to endure another religion-laden pat on the back either). But we have stopped going to church. I tried, for a long time after Nick died, to keep my chin up and to "be good". I often found myself crying inconsolably, and seething with anger. I can't blame myself, and it's so easy to blame "God". To be mad at "He" who surely caused this. Unlike my mother, who helpfully suggested that maybe it wasn't "God" who killed my children. No, she thinks it might just have been the devil. Thanks, mom. Even MORE comforting to me. I don't know how you sleep at night.
No, I'm pretty sure it was God who killed my babies.
I zone out during the scripture and think about the man at the pulpit who said all the wrong things at a memorial for a little dead baby and was of absolutely NO comfort whatsoever to the grieving parents and brother who needed some solace. Some answers. Some platitudes. ANYTHING to ease the crushing weight on our chests. Was it appropriate to give the same "in a better place" and "no more suffering" speech? Was it acceptable to tell the attendees that God has saved little Nicholas from a life of rotting in hell by forgiving all of his earthly sins? Is there not a special service that most sane clergy-persons offer for CHILDREN? You know, the INNOCENTS? The ones whose families are so torn apart by grief at an unexpected death, the death of a baby whose life hadn't even begun, some soothing words to offer when your whole world has been torn apart? By the time these thoughts (and more!) have moved from one side of my brain to the other, unoccupied lobe, the priest is giving his homily about how we should be living our lives. Been there, done that, didn't work. And then there's the pro-lifers. The ones carrying photos of aborted babies are the best. Just what I need to see, thanks so very much. So, heathen that I am, I stopped attending church. Just too much, too painful, too awkward, too inept. I didn't immediately set out stealing and murdering people. Undoing of years of "right" takes a while. There was that little old lady that I tripped one time, but she healed. Sorry, mom.
My point is, after much consideration, is I was mad at "God".
And that makes so many people rather uncomfortable.
You can't hate God! You'll go to hell! You're wrong. That attitude will get you nowhere. How can you not believe in an all-knowing, all-powerful, perfect Lord and Saviour? All those years of having it pounded into your thick skull and this is what you've become? You should be ashamed.
Perhaps, if you are a true believer, my views give you a little quiver of shock and sadness for my mortal soul.
Perhaps, if you've experienced the type of shit that most of my readers have, you tend to sit on the fence about this issue. You might even lean my way just a little bit.
God forbid I should push you over to the other side.
Personally, I don't care what you believe. If I came up to you expressing full and utter faith in lucky rabbits feet and the number "9", you might think I was nuts. But am I?
Little kids believe in Santa Claus, but we grow up and realize that his Christmas miracles are impossible and untrue. Why then, do so many 'faithful' believe in god-related miracles, and have for all of recorded history? Could it be that the human mind finds unanswered questions to be so stressing that we have to give everything a "reason" just to accept it?
For what it's worth, I took TWO YEARS of a psych/religion program - AT A CATHOLIC COLLEGE - in which the psychology professor stressed repeatedly how religion is a man-created entity. The religion professor conceded that the bible and most Christian beliefs are, indeed, invented by man. The existence of a higher power was tossed around on many different levels. Few doubted, most believed as devoutly as any good bible-thumper would, but two of us stood our grounds on agnosticism. Call it the scientist in me, but ambiguity means very little. I will work even harder at trying to prove something than I would just roll over and accept it because everyone else does and has for years.
So, be mad at me for denouncing my faith. Hate me for hating "God". Notice the contradiction in your beliefs if you are enduring either one of those sensations. Take a moment to browse around books or websites that dissect and examine the human mind and the need for structure and control. Take some time to really THINK about religion.
Would you be less upset if I told you I just.don't.believe in a "god", rather than if I was mad at "him"? Does it change your views of me as a person? Do I matter less? Do I deserve all that I have suffered, especially NOW that I've laid it all out?
I'm still a good person who works tirelessly at caring for other people and easing their suffering. I don't covet my neighbors' anything and I believe in the golden rule/do unto others/respect your elders/don't kill/don't steal, etc. If you think about it, it is possible to be a decent human being without magical delusions. Unless I'm being delusional about my goodness and the loose change I drop in the Easter Seals and Special Olympics containers is the wrong thing to do. Why do we do that, anyway? Why won't god just fix those poor kids?