I get angry at God. I yell. I scream. I demand answers. I flat out reject everything. And then I come to my senses.
The truth is, I'm human. I get as frustrated as anyone ever does or ever can - and it happens way more often than it needs to happen. At least, in my view.
After all, if life were perfect, why be frustrated? There would be no need.
I'm Lieutenant Dan on the top of the mast yelling at the top of my lungs about the injustice of everything.
"WHERE ARE MY OPEN DOORS AND OPPORTUNITY?!?!"
It's at these very moment I am reminded how petty and silly and downright stupid I am.
A lot of people have it a lot worse than I.
I mean, count it up - I am truly blessed. Unbelievably so.
That's not gratitude porn as James Altucher would say - that's just me being real.
--
A good friend of mine just passed away the other day.
I loved the old man. He was like a grandfather in a way. In another way, just a great friend that always cared.
He wasn't a believer. A Christian. He was, by all intents, the most heathen person I may have ever met.
But he was always fun. Always funny. Always caring. Always asking about me when I wasn't where we'd meet and hang out.
The guy genuinely cared if I were okay or not.
That made him special. Because we only have a few of those over a lifetime.
He used to tell the most sexually perverted and vile jokes. I mean, these would make everyone blush - not just this person or that person - I mean, everyone.
I want to tell a couple of his favorites here - but in good conscious I can't in a public forum.
We all laughed.
But that made him something no one else was.
The truth is, he wasn't scared or afraid to just be himself. He was him, you be you.
--
I know someone else who just today was checked into hospice. She's going to die.
She lived an exceptional life. God filled. Full of love. Humble. Dedicated to love and family. A person of true character.
Impeachable.
She's had cancer. She beat it. It came back. She almost beat it. And then she couldn't beat it again.
I yell at God for things like that.
I get high and mighty. I get frustrated. Angry. Angry to the bone. Downright angry.
"Why does this Hitler get to live and murder 6 million and take another 14 million in his path and this sweet soul have to be taken so soon? She's a new mother!"
It makes me angry.
--
A few years ago a friend of mine was losing her father. I was angry about it.
I prayed, "God, take me instead". I loved her and her family.
They were good to me. They didn't need to lose a husband, father, lover, friend.
They could afford to lose me.
He died. I lived.
We never speak anymore.
--
There is no real justice. No injustice.
There just is what is.
No one can tell from moment to moment or day to day what is going to happen.
Last night I was literally yelling and screaming at God. Angry down to my very fiber. From 2:30 am on, it was on.
Why is He doing what He's doing?
I don't have enough information.
I don't know enough.
I can't see the bigger plans - His plans. I can only see my frustrations. My seeming defeat. The closed doors all around me.
I need to roll over and float on my back for a little while.
Grab some air.
Start breathing.
Then roll back over and start swimming until I'm about to drown again.
Let go of the rope I'm holding onto.
That's the only way to cope with yelling at God.
That and saying sorry when it's all said and done.
And I am sorry.
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