The Problem of Suffering

"The answer to the question "where is God when I hurt?" is quite clear: He is on the cross." And that is the question that I suffered the most with, where was my God? How could he watch me suffer like this, so much pain, so many tears. Every second of the first few weeks were difficult to keep breathing.

Here's an insert from my journal:

"My sweet angel, I miss you so much, my arms ache. Are you playing, singing in the heavens. Mommy wishes this for her little girl. Mommy is having a rough time right now. Sorry if I'm blowing ourt your ccandle. Ask Jesus and Mary to have mercy on mommy. Right now all I feel is your loss. Your face is ever before me. And the house is so quiet. I want it full of your screams, your whining. Mommy wants you back so bad. I was so ready for you. My sweet little girl, everything you would have been in this world is lost - all the firsts and seconds; everything I wanted to teach; all the frustrations I wanted to embrace them all. I don't understand why you had to leave. I want an answer! Like a little girl myself I've been pounding on my father's chest - the unfairness of it all - the cruelest joke of all - Is someone laughing at me? My mind goes round the same thoughts over and over again...the phone rings; it's the hospital, and it's all a big mistake. They have my daughter and we can come and get her. Oh God, send me back to a different time or bring me forward closer to death, but don't leave me here friendless."