Mom to the rescue

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While I know that the HPV cancer was my punishment and/or penance for not remaining chaste many years ago when I was engaged, it doesn’t stop me from being a lil’ angry at a God who seems to like to kick me when I’m down . . . Kick, punch, spit on . . . It’s obvious He doesn’t like this worthless ol’ butthead, as I feel like the mouse the cat spends all day slowly ripping apart instead of killing outright.

But in any family, it’s nice to have a Mother who’s always their to listen and comfort, especially when we aren’t on speaking terms with our dad or siblings. Mom might not be able to change dad’s punishment/anger, but she’s there to stop the crying after we get back from the wood shed. Even on the days it feels God’s ears are As deaf as He made my own mother’s , I still know Mary is listening, and hopefully asking for clemency.

This new perspective, and added, unorthodox, reason to be thankful for Christ’s gift of a new mother almost makes it worth the hell I am enduring.

 I don’t blame God for His contempt for me, as it is one of the few universal opinions I agree with, but I still can’t forgive Him for not allowing me to die. . .for this continued cable TV version of JOB.
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