When Nolan died, I really wanted my faith to help me. I attempted to pray. For Lent that first year, I attempted to pray the Divine Mercy prayer daily. I think I even said I would read the bible. It’s been four long years, so I can’t remember for sure.
It didn’t help though. In those early days, I begged God to help me to find understanding. I wished for a sign. Something. Anything. When your 13 year old son dies in his sleep completely unexpectedly, it’s hard to trust God. So I think it is completely understandable for me to need Him to provide a sign or some sort of peace.
Well, He didn’t. Instead, I’ve grown further and further from my faith. I rarely pray. And when I do, I’m cynical.
When friends ask for prayers on social media, email, etc., I usually respond, “Will do.” But you know what? I’m a liar. I rarely pray anymore. If I do pray, of course I will pray for my friends. But with a faith as shoddy as mine, well, it’s just not happening most of the time.
Some would said that you have to pray to have faith. Well, I need some faith in order to pray. I don’t understand why God wouldn’t understand that unless He isn’t listening, He doesn’t care, or He doesn’t exist.