Why, God, Why?~Cblossom

I love the one lone flower by the pile of trash outside my work. In the midst of broken bottles and rotting food, it blooms and thrives. That flower is much like me. I have lived a life filled with ugliness; surrounded by people who have tried to break my spirit or use and discard me like a piece of rubbish. They did not break me. I won the battIes because, regardless of their actions, I survived and bloomed in life.

My grandfather and an Uncle molested me throughout my youth. I was raped at 13 by the neighborhood boys -they took turns. I was raped once more in my adult life. I have been in an abusive relationship more then once and have lived much of my life unsure if I was ever unconditionally loved by another. When my father committed suicide and I was thrown into a world of utter despair and anxiety-- finally feeling I had faced more pain than I could possibly endure in this lifetime-- I cried out to God, “WHY, GOD, WHY?”

Why would my God allow these things to happen to me?

"My life has been so terrible, so horrible, no one should be made to endure such pain!"

Time has gone by since those times, and I have met some wonderful people and have learned some things from them. From their example, I have changed my thought patterns.

I have since chosen to believe there is a reason we are faced with such adversity and such horrors in our lives. It seems to me that the most beautiful souls and the strongest of humans have endured pains so much greater than my own. There are parents, that I know, that have suffered the heartbreak at the loss of a child. I know of one person that has lost two of his children. There is so much suffering in this small world. There are humans who have to accept death daily-- as their loved ones around them starve to death because of their community's lack of food or die from lack of medical care for what should be a simple ailment. Should I consider myself lucky then that I have been spared from even greater trials? Perhaps I would be wise to look inside myself and search for strength and understanding of my own life and circumstances.

What I have learned this far:

I have realized some of the reasons why I was allowed to experience these heinous acts and I am a better person because of them. I do not seek pity any longer or sing songs of woe very often. I look for the end result-- what will I do with what has happened to me? How I react to a situation can make or break me. I choose faith-- faith that there is something to be learned from the most terrible of acts upon an innocent.

I finally realized that I did not deserve the abuse or pain and I did nothing to bring those episodes on to myself however...

I see the good in all, even the horrible and wicked things I have gone through as being something positive.

"How?" you may ask.

Although I am not positive of all the lessons I have been taught or the reasoning behind all, I do know a little, and that is enough for now.

Only one example of a lesson learned:

One day, the doorbell rang. My molesting, sweating, nasty ol' grandpa answered the door. My grandfather was a slovenly, overweight man who smelled stale and unawashed. He did nothing during the day except sit in the same stinky recliner and watch television. He got up only to feed his fat face, or if no one else was around, he would answer the door. One day he answered the door and he was greeted by a black family, dressed in what seemed to be their "Sunday best". I am not sure what they wanted, nor do I believe it has any relevance, but they seemed polite and well-spoken. I stood in the background and watched. After a few pleasant exchanged words, my grandfather closed the door. He had a lot to say, once that door was shut. He did not raise his voice to them or tell them what he felt about them. Only after the door had been closed and they could not hear what he had to say, a coward and a bigot! did he raise his voice and bellow. He went on to call them every typical prejudiced name in the book, ranting on about those people, believing he was superior in some way. All I could think was- OMG! Here stands the vilest person that I know, a man who thinks it is fine to degrade and abuse his family, who has no morals, a man-- who to me is a bottom of the barrel example of humanity-- a pervert, calling OTHERS low and disgusting! That made an impact! I learned not to judge by appearance or skin tone. I learned that you can be so blind to your own faults if all you do is judge others. I learned that you need to look inside rather than outside yourself to realize your worth and value. I learned that the ugliest of souls find it only too easy to judge others, while blind to their own sins and faults. A life lesson learned, and to me, worth it-- regardless the cost. What my grandfather did to me was only a small portion of my entire life and I refused to dwell on it forever. I will not give him any more power over me than he already had.

What I know now:

I have learned many positive things from what I have endured, but the most important lesson I learned is I am STRONG. I am stronger than my circumstances, stronger than I would have been had I led an easier life. I choose to believe there ARE reasons for the ugliness in the world. I look for the positive, for it is there- if you have the eyes to see it. A person who's never seen anything unpleasing can't fully appreciate beauty. To feel blessed, one must have felt pain at some time in their life.

This is not to say that the suffering of others should be belittled or dismissed. Others, including myself, need help through their pain- to a place of healing and acceptance. There are many things we can do, as part of humanity, to help each other find a better way, a better life, a better state of 'being'.

I realize now my life, with all its trials has been a blessed one. I have two wonderful children, a beautiful grandchild. I can see, I can hear, I can walk. I can appreciate the loveliness I see in other people. I can enjoy simple beauty, even if surrounded by something ugly. I love the one lone flower by the pile of trash outside my work. In the midst of broken bottles and rotting food, it blooms and thrives. I am that flower.

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