Maybe tied for worst day of my life or the second worst day…

This is my open letter to God, I thought I would share it with you. We’ll figure it out eventually, God and I. I know this in my heart and head, but I’m oh so fighting it right now…

It was this baby-calendar week in my wife’s last pregnancy 18 months ago in which we lost the twins that she was carrying. I sit here once again in a hospital room listening to the sullen clicking ratchet of pitocin slowly seeping it’s way through my wife’s racked body. I feel like my faith is shipwrecked or at the very least capsized.

Today we lost yet another baby. But this time it is the most maddening of all losses, the unknown loss. With the twins, we knew they had a rare condition that would probably cause them to pass. At least we knew it might happen. We went through grief group, in the middle of it found a church, and emerged on the path God had set before us. That uphill rocky path that always seems as if it could get no worse looking forward but looks like an easy stroll looking back.

But back to the worst day part, I’m not sure why I’m not as sad this time. I’m just not. I think I moved straight into pissed off. More annoying people to tell me “It just wasn’t meant to be” or “It’s all part of God’s will” or “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle“. And to all of you I’m writing a preemptive ‘Screw you’. God DOES give us more than we can handle, if he didn’t we wouldn’t need him, and the world is pretty shitty so I think we do.

Begin said letter:

Dear God,

First of all, let me start off by saying you suck. You made everything, including the three kids that you’ve taken from us. At least please let us keep JP and MC though, they don’t suck. And I love my wife and the rest of my family. I’m not sure why you won’t let us add to it.

I feel like an incorrigible 3 year old not wanting to leave the park. So God, here is how I feel:

My plan is CLEARLY better pal, and I’m not going to participate in your plan even though you can make me do so. I feel like you are screwing with me right now and I SO want nothing to do with you. Why do you keep giving us what we thought we wanted in the first place when we moved to this God-forsaken state (2 kids, 3 bedroom house, 2 cars, good job, stability). If you want us to have more kids FINE you freakin’ jerk, then let me have them. I’ll sell the house, I’ll move back to CA. Hell, I’d move to Zimbabwe at this point.

I don’t have cancer, I don’t have people threatening to kill me. I’m not huddling in a refugee camp. I know these things should at least bring me comfort. But they don’t, because things suck right now, and I’m a guy and there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel as if you’re just poking me in the eye with a pointy stick and laughing. Or like the bully kid who takes something from you and holds it over your head and says ‘Jump’ only to yank it just higher than your grasp. Quit giving me more kids if you don’t want me to have them.

I don’t want you to keep giving me these dilemmas to plan for please. Just let me live my life along the plan I came up with if that’s your plan. This “choose your own adventure” crap in which I end up in the same place isn’t working for me right now.

Thanks,

-Preston

P.S. Please don’t smote me, I know you’re still God, but I’m really pissed off.