Faded

His existence often feels like a faded memory.  Was I simply in a dream for 16 weeks? Or am I just now stuck in a nightmare?  What is the meaning of all this?  Why? No one deserves this.  Why allow this type of pain to exist? 

This morning I was emptying the dishwasher after coming across an article about how Stephen Hawking was an atheist and explained how he said that science can now substantiate how existence came about on Earth, and therefore, God does not exist.  It's a tough concept for me to grasp.  I've believed in God my whole life.  There are so many things I don't understand.  If God does exist, and God is good, why don't I have my son with me?

Faith is difficult.  Blindly, we believe in higher powers.  You can't see God.  He doesn't answer you in a clear fashion as if two people were conversing.  There's a saying...You have to see it to believe it.  Faith is the opposite.  You have to believe it to see it.  I struggle back and forth.  I can't really say I've had a day where I stopped believing all together, but I've definitely had days where I question my faith.  I'm having one of those days actually.  It's easy to want to blame God.  My son is gone and I have no explanation.  I have no one to blame and I need to blame something, someone.  It's difficult to be mad at God though.  I don't want to be.  I want to understand.  I want Him to forgive me for all my transgressions.  I want Him to forgive me for this intermittent anger that is directed at Him. 

I used to believe that everything happens for a reason.  I just can't anymore.  I don't see a reason for losing Preston.  I don't see anything good coming out of it.  How can this be for the greater good?  And I know, that's the point... you're not supposed to know God's plan.  You're not supposed to understand it.  But how am I supposed to accept it when I don't believe there was any reason for me to lose my son.  He should be with me, in my arms.  He should be playing in the leaves.  He should be learning to walk and talk.  He should be throwing food he doesn't like on the ground.  He should be learning about football, and baseball and hockey... even if he'd be way to young to understand any of it.  Instead, more and more, he's becoming a distant memory.  The faded smiles and coos.  The disappearing memories.  They're hard to deal with every day.  Anyone have a time machine??