I Question God

I have something important to say but I don’t know how to say it.

I’ve made a couple of starts on this post but deleted every one.

That’s because I don’t know what I’m talking about.

I need to think this through more.

I’ll try next week.

The question I’m worrying is why awful tragedies befall people, good people, bad people, indifferent people, guilty, innocent babies… If God is love, why do hateful things happen?

I don’t have an answer. Not one that satisfies me.

Only some isolated thoughts, and they seem ineffectual clichés .

Let me get back to you on this.

Meanwhile, Saturday morning Ginny and I enjoyed a lovely time in our garden. While working on the Google Books and William Short’s Diary, I neglected our yard shamefully. It was good to get out there again.

While Ginny re-potted flowers, I edged and mowed. Then we spent the rest of our workday sitting under the awning, sipping coffee, smoking and talking about other work we could do—if we were a-mind to.

Without moving from our chairs we watched a hummingbird, a woodpecker, scores of dove, cardinals, bluejays, titmice, chickadees, a thrush, a pair or wren, and a bunch of LGBs—that means little gray birds, meaning we don’t know what they are.

All so pleasant. All so lovely. All so peaceful.

Why did God let this happen to me?