The other day I woke up feeling particularly upset about my mom, so I rolled over and texted P. It was very, very early and since he is a nurse that works those crazy nurse hours, I knew he was awake. I vomited all my emotions about everything in this text that was very long, and his response was simply, "You need to pray to Allah." Ugh! With his devout Muslim self. I should have known that was going to be his response.
For some reason, I was taken back to earlier last year when I talked to my friend Gail. She had been through it over the past few years. I am talking bad relationships, car repossessions, lost jobs, etc. When she called me, it sounded like the sun was finally coming out in her life. Seeing that she has always been a Super Christian, I said, "Don't forget to thank God for seeing you through." That is when she dropped a bomb on me: she is now practicing Santeria.
I wanted to be respectful of what she had just said, but I was still like, "What?!" This is a girl that was so God-fearing that she was afraid to do anything! She had once given me a stern talking to because I had told her I had had a conversation with some Mormons. Now she's gettin' Babalawo with it? It didn't make any sense. So, she went on to explain why she was beginning to practice and it all boiled down to her wanting to feel in control of her destiny and not wanting to feel like she was just a pawn at God's will. I understood what she was saying, but it also sounded like she was mad a God.
Yes, I lost my mom, but I'm not mad at God. I understand that as hurtful as this all is, it is all part of the cycle of life. However, I also do not feel like praying as P suggested either because I know that God knows what is going on. I have always felt connected to Him, so I also know that he knows how I am feeling. I am still praying to God for a good job. I am still praying for more money. I am still praying for a better hairstyle for my facial shape and a one-term Trump presidency, but for some reason, I just can't pray on my mom or anything that has to do with her.When the doctors came into the waiting area and told us that she had died, I prayed that He would let her into Heaven. Maybe that was all the conversation that He and I needed to have. Who knows? I'm no theologian, just a girl trying to deal.
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