If There is Truly a God and a Satan


Up until last night I was able to find the little things in life that bring me joy. But I have almost given up as the truth is inside this house, there is no joy.

Moaning, screams of pain, rambling on where no words can be understood. Doctors saying nothing else can be done are just more than I can handle any longer.

Al is so angry at God. This is all a new side I have never seen. He says God is ignoring him and for the first time I have to question whether there truly is a God.

With Al being mentally challenged and completely bed bound there are no lessons for him to be learning anymore. Al can not see beyond the pain any longer. I can’t accept the answers that God may be using his illness to teach me something.

In fact that just irritates the crap out of me. I want to scream out loud, Don’t even use my brother to teach me a lesson. For then the guilt I carry within seeing him suffer is way beyond the stability that I try to carry.

If God has a lesson to teach me or if God thinks that by letting Al continue to suffer it will back fire, because all I can feel is anger within at seeing him suffer.

The moments that Al is not asleep is pure hell here. His body is contracted, his body is burning up. His vision is total blur. His body doesn’t tolerate the high doses of medications he is on. There is no balance. If you give him higher dose he abuses himself from the opposite effect the medicine should have.

The doctors are refusing to give him anything else. They don’t know the answers either. And if they don’t know the answers after years of schooling how can anyone expect me to know them.

When Al is awake I can hear Al screaming out, ” Please, please help me. Somebody help me. God why aren’t you taking me home?” These are words that are repeated so many times I can not begin to count them.

I can bring no comfort, no joy to his life. I have begun to feel like Al and I are actually living in hell and if there is a heaven, then surely this will be his reward when he passes. I continue to beg God,” If you truly exist than take him home now. There is no more perfect moment than now.” But, nothing happens. Al is still here and suffers a little more each day.

My body is drained. Doing housework has become a chore. Christmas coming makes me want to vomit. The joy of listening to Christmas music and baking sugar cookies makes me ill.

If Satan has tried every trick he has then he is winning over Al and it is trickling into me also. If there truly is a God and a Satan, which one is winning?

 

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