Where is God?

Those of you who know me know that I believe in God and consider myself a Christian.  I believe that my word view is distinctly shaped and molded by these factors. This means that they play a huge role in my perception of this whole horrible, messy situation. I will be honest with you right up front. Am I mad at God right now? Definitely. Do I feel like he doesn't care - yes. That he's abandoned us, yes. I can't tell you how many times I've turned to my husband and said, "It's not fair. Why does God hate us so much?" Yes, I am hurt, angry and wrestling with God...but I still believe in Him and I still believe that He loves me. In this darkest hour when I feel like we as a family are literally walking through the valley of the shadow of death one of my few comforts is that we are not alone. Christ walks with us. There is no hardship, no pain, no suffering that he hasn't known. The fact that he would sacrifice his life mine means that he does love me. But it still hurts.  

Suffering in this world is rampant. I believe that suffering is the result of sin. I also believe that God works all things out for His purposes, though they don't make sense to me and sometimes make me feel like God must be cruel. Especially right now. I feel like God has beaten me over the head, mashed me to a pulp and most certainly asked me to bear more than I can. Yet I still find myself going back to him, darn it! Am I a blind follower? Or is it maybe that he really does care, really does love me, really is working things out though I can't see or feel it. Being refined is never fun, yet the end results are often stunning...look at gold (anyone read this month's National Geographic?). I am still wrestling with all this...probably will be my whole life to be honest...just wanted people to know where I am with all of this. I am tenuously clinging, but still clinging.

How do I know that God is there, even amidst my anger and hurt? I know because I felt him and his strength...that morning when the police officer knocked on my hotel door at 4:30 in the morning, as I calmly made and fielded phone call after phone call from the hotel room where I was stuck by myself - 8 month pregnant and with two little children, as I walked into the ICU and saw my mom for the first time after the accident, those early days when we didn't know if my mom would survive, struggling through my brother's wedding just four days after the accident. He's been there. I may not get it, I may be angry, but I know he is there and He's the main reason I'm making it through all of this without completely losing my mind.