A veil of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and finely twined linen

My relationship with the Lord, the sweetness and the trust that once was so evident and strong, has been damaged.  Since He took our Rami home, there is a rift between us, yet still I sense his presence.  I know He is with me all the time, and I believe He loves me with a love that is greater and deeper than I can ever comprehend, and I can see how He is and continues to provide for me ... yet still there is hurt, and broken trust.  I don't want to feel this way, but this continues to be a struggle I have.  I think the enemy of the world would have me stay in this unstable state forever if it were up to him, and I know I don't want that.  I want to return to full trust, but it's not easy.  I find that anytime I proclaim my trust in the Lord, verbal or inwardly, it is immediately followed by the reminder that I trusted Him with my pregnancy and my baby's well being, and where did that get me?  Smack in the middle of the worst pain and despair and darkness of all my life.  If you are a praying person, please pray for me as I wrestle with this.  I don't want to struggle in this anymore, and somehow I need to let go.

I was talking with a woman, a new volunteer at Scarlet Cord last night.  We were volunteering together and had just met for the first time.  She was the only one in the room who doesn't know my Rami story and all the pain that comes with it.  As we all sat around the dinner table and chatted, I was sharing something that happened to be related to the time when I was pregnant.  The woman later asked me how old my baby is, and I had to tell her that my baby died.  She continued with her questions and we had a brief conversation about my loss.  I then told her a bit of the struggle I have just written about, and my feelings of resentment, confusion and anger, about how I would like for all that to fade away, but I don't know when that will happen.  She, in all her earthly wisdom, proceeded to tell me that she knows when I will stop feeling those things... it will be when God reveals to me how He wanted to shape me with the pain, which will show me why He took my son the way He did.

So in other words, she believes God took my son to cause me to go through this personal hell, so that I can be shaped more into His image.  I most definitely do not see this from her perspective, so I quickly changed the subject and then excused myself from the conversation and avoided eye contact with her for the rest of the evening.  I don't see the point in arguing with people like that.  I just avoid.  On the way out the door, she hugged me (ek, get away!) and told me, "I hope your grief does what it's supposed to do in you, so you can move on with your life"... as if God is causing me all this pain to teach me something.  I know God can use this time to shape me, but again (I know I've said it before), I refuse to believe God would inflict this upon me in order to teach me some character-forming lesson.  I don't have enough letters on the keyboard to express my frustration at this way of thinking that so many Christians have!!! 

I was reading the Book of Hope today, and feeling worn out by the distance between me and my God.  His timing is pretty good.  The following is what I read today, and for now it is helping.  It tells of the veil (or barrier, to be more blunt) that was between humans and God, until He came to us in the form of Jesus, in order to tear the veil and make a way for us to be close to him, to dwell with Him.  He is with me, my God is with me.

Selah.