Sometimes, the answer is No.
I read this today and it instantly made me teary. Questions of faith are never easy, and our situation definitely has more questions than answers. My mom says it had better be a slow day when she gets to heaven because she will need a long time with God to get answers to all of her questions. I wish I had that confidence that the answers are out there and the patience to wait for them to be revealed.
I do find some comfort in faith, security in the belief that all is not random, that there is a plan and a loving God to guide us. But that's not always solid enough to cling to and it leaves me feeling adrift. I used to find solace in the rituals of mass, that sameness week after week no matter where I lived or what else was happening in my life or in the world. These days it's not solace I find but an empty ache. I thought at first it was the somber Lenten services, so I stayed away for a few weeks thinking I might find joy again in Easter. But it was the same. There's nothing about mass that I associate with Will--he obviously never was there and I didn't even go very often during his life--so I don't know what exactly makes me sad there. Maybe it's just the absence of that "old" happiness, the memory of my joyful weekly prayer while I was pregnant: "Thank you for another week with this baby. Watch over and protect us. Help my baby grow and keep me strong. And please also care for all pregnant women, especially Diana and Melanie and Kathryn and Kerry and Liza..."
I don't know what to pray for now. Or maybe I'm just scared that the answer will be No.