The less than grand time began yesterday afternoon as I was picking up a rotisserie chicken for dinner. Coming out of the store was the one person I had hoped never to see again. He had betrayed my mother and because of his actions, forced me into legal action that continues to drag on and on and on. I felt my stomach roil and was nauseated the rest of the night.
Then, this morning, a door that I had so hoped would be open slammed shut so hard I think I have a bloody nose. The nausea that had abated came rushing back, this time accompanied by bitter, disappointed tears.
Although I know better, I find myself asking God, "Why? Why did these things happen? Why isn't justice being served with regards to my mother's betrayal? Why did this oh-so-promising door not just close, but lock? Why, when I ask for a good surprise, do I get something painful?" Of course, I don't get an answer. God never answers "why" questions because the only possible answer is "because" and that's no more satisfying when you are my age than when you are two.
I wish that I could write that despite it all, I rejoiced mightily in God's love and grace, but I didn't and I'm not.
I'm wrestling with God about all these things...and eating chocolate chips.
