The Blessed and The Cursed

I recently heard a song with some lyrics in it about being so blessed when there's so much suffering in the world. I've often struggled with this especially from a spiritual standpoint. How does the same God allow wondrous blessings to some and allow horrible, unmentionable sufferings to others? I read this morning about a child porn ring that was uncovered in Austria (thank God). But we all know it's not going away. It will rear it's ugly, monstrous, vile head again and again and again and again. And why? For what purpose?

Then my friend's dear tiny little daughter has to have some yucky scary tests next Tuesday. She'll be terrified and we won't know yet what the results will be, so we're all a little scared too. And I can't imagine something bad happening to that child (who happens to be Riley's best friend). And I can't imagine how children are raped and murdered in Darfur. And how do the homeless in Baltimore stay warm in this 9 degree weather when I'm freezing in my nice, expensive Lands End jacket, Pierre Cardin scarf and Isotoner gloves? Where's God's fairness and compassion in all of that? And how do little old people get through each day all alone when all their relatives and friends have died off? And then who am I to ask for anything? Anything at all? Yet, we're supposed to "petition" God. Who petitions for all these others? I guess we're supposed to. I don't know.

But I do know that today I fear my own tests, Grace's tests, I fear for the little old street man who lives across from my building - will he still be alive when I leave work this afternoon? How on earth does he survive this cold? How do 18 year olds handle getting shot at every day in Iraq? They haven't even seen any other states besides the ones they were born in, but yet they're in a foreign land looking at bloody carnage every day. Who petitions for them?

So Fatima's blue today, feeling sorry for myself, little children, little old people, homeless people, young people, lonely people, and the list goes on. And feeling guilty for being so blessed when others are so not blessed - but still wanting everything to be okay in my comfortable life. I don't want it disrupted at all. Who am I to think nothing bad should ever cross my path?

Fatima Wants to Go Home