Why Am I Not Angry at God for Taking My Child?

Jess, Herself

I have had a rather horrendous life, in-between the victories and the hope and the beauty and the joy, and yet, it occurs to me that I am not angry at God, though I don't call that force of loving energy God, I call it my Creative Source of Love, the source from which I spring, the source from which we all spring.

I only got angry once, when I watched my daughter, who was sick and dying, get "teased" by a healthy, vibrant friend at the airport when that beautiful young, strong, healthy woman breezed in, noticed Jess sitting there waiting for us to get the luggage, and said, "Oh Jess! How ARE you? It's so nice to see you! We need to get together. I'm getting married! Maybe you can even come to my wedding!"

The young woman went off to collect her suitcases, but before she left, my beloved Jess, who had spent most of her time in a wheelchair through the journey from her home in Portland, Oregon, to State College, Pennsylvania, was the epitome of Grace itself, as she replied, "Yes, it's so good to see you. We should get together."

The girl knew nothing of Jess's struggles with her ailing body. Jess didn't elaborate on her condition. Not a muscle in her face twitched. She radiated p e a c e. And yet, she had no future, no impending marriage, no children, no work, no driving, no eating, no peaceful sleeping, no anything but pain since her sweet body was in major sickness and decline.

That time, I did curse the Heavens. I cursed the gods. I cursed cursed cursed for my daughter's helplessness and the ill-timed appearance of the vibrant, healthy, young woman who epitomized what Jess was not, and would never be, though we didn't know that at the time. We were smack in the middle of trying to help her heal. Bringing on six more doctors and tests and treatments and medicines and everything we could possibly do to help her regain her own vibrancy.

Yes, that time I cursed the gods for flaunting perfect health and vibrancy in the face of my beautiful, shattered daughter. It was cruel.

But, that was the only time. Through all the sickness, doc appointments, disappointments, medicines that worked, medicines that stopped working, physical therapy that worked, PT that stopped working, seizures, and death, I did not become angry at "God."

Why?

Because I learned that "God," or as I call it, our Creative Source, is a part of EVERYTHING. This force of energy does not oversee us as a "Father figure," protecting us, OR "taking us away" from our beloveds when it's time for us to die.

This force simply exists. It IS. And we are PART of it. We are MADE of it. It works THROUGH us. Not upon us, not at us, not for or against us, THROUGH us as we live, AND as we die.

So as Jess sat there responding to what I perceived as unutterably cruel, she was totally connected and being her most true, high Self, absolutely imbued with Grace. Peace. Gentleness. Certainty. Beauty. LOVE. Wow.

And as she went through the ups and downs of her illness that led to her death I also went through major ups and downs. My heart was either right in my throat or down in my feet somewhere, depending on what we were going through. Her heart was shining. Glowing. Giving.

She said to me one day, "Mom, come and look in the bathroom at the floor." And she moved the rug back and swiped her toes over a bunch of little cracks that make a picture. "Doesn't that mark look just like Joey Max?!" she said. "Why, yes it does!" I agreed. And we both laughed. (Joey Max is our beloved kitty, who spent every single day and night with Jess while she was here. Jess loved kitties and they loved her right back.) This, she did while she was so sick and so weak, and when I look back at all the kinds of things she did like that, I am reminded of such grace and love through this process of her death where she was giving, giving, giving, to fill me up for the time when we would feel the separation. Sweet child. I wonder if she knows how much treasure she bestowed upon me during the time she was here with us. I think very much so, yes.

Looks just like our kitty, Joey Max xo

And if we look very closely and pay attention to our beloveds as they prepare to exit this planet and go to our Celestial Home, if we're lucky, we become aware of many lovely gifts and assurances along the way.

I am not angry at "God," because I have learned that "God" is very much a part of all that happens during our lives as well as during our departures. It is that force of Love and Energy that radiates out from those who are exiting, however long that takes, as long as they are not afraid, and it is that force that brings them into healing and wholeness after their Earth adventures are over.

It is the force that allows us to reconnect with our beloveds once our hearts and minds have settled, once they have reoriented themselves to the place where we come from, where we belong, the loving place of our origin. All of us!

It is that force that reminds us that we have birth here, on beautiful Earth, and we have death here, but Life itself is ongoing, infinite, regenerating, rejuvenating, and totally based in Love.

I am not angry with "God," because I didn't expect "God" to save her. I expected God to LOVE her. To hold her in the dearest arms of love and to surround her with it. And that is most definitely what happened.

I do not measure her life by the length of it, or by potential "milestones," such as marriage or having children. I measure it by the living she did. And she lived with all of herself.

And I do not "measure" God by the number of days she lived here, or whether they were good or bad or easy or hard. The only "measure" of that force I can perceive, in relation to Jess, is the immeasurable absolute joy or poignancy that came pouring directly out of her, depending on the circumstances she dealt with.

I have recently framed a couple of gorgeous photos she took while she was here, while she was strong, while she was being her photographer Self. And they are most beautiful and make my heart sing when I look at them. I see the world through her beautiful eyes and heart. Thank you sweet Jess. For your living. And your being you. Excellent job babe! xo

Jess's photo of Mt. Hood in Oregon with the moon overhead,
and the poem called Someday a Mountain.
I just love it.

Jess's photo of a gorgeous green twirl of leaves; Life.
I just love that too.

The "Workout Room," the "Life Room"

So this is the room she slept in while she was here healing. I sold the beds and we put all our workout equipment in there. It is now a place of life, a place to come and restore our tired bodies, to listen to beautiful music and stretch out, sometimes meditate, and sometimes dance. I love that her photos grace the walls to remind us of the love and life that we shared here, and that we continue to share, just in different ways.

Yes, we will keep on dancing....

I gave Jess that little dancing doll and she kept it on the wall next to her kitchen. Now it hangs in the workout room by the door. Each time I leave, I pull the string xo

Namaste,
Jen