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No Good Reason.

No. Everything does not happen for a reason. No. There isn’t always good in every situation. Yes. Bad things happen to good people. Yes. Good things happen to bad people. And sometimes bad things just happen. And yes. It is all about how you react and move forward.

Please understand how difficult it is for me to write this post. I only do so because I’ve had a few of these conversations face-to-face (imagine that), and finding others who were willing to admit the shameful fact that death shakes every part of your being, including your faith – has been the only thing that’s provided some comfort in this area. Those who were strong enough to admit they understand my deep confusion, hurt, pain and isolation, provided a path for me to slowly walk down and find my new way. I hope this serves to do the same for many others who may find him or herself on this same path.

Recently, I was able to have a real conversation with a beautiful friend. She reminded me “God is good. It’s man that is terrible.”

While I do believe God wants the best for us. It’s been very difficult for me to say the first part of the phrase she told me above. My head knows God loves us, just as any parent loves his or her child. My head also knows God hurts when we do.

No. God doesn’t want any child (meaning infant through seniors) to be raped, robbed, sick or killed.

God hoped to provide a beautiful life for each of us to live within a beautiful world. However, when sin slithered into the equation, it changed everything. Free will entered the picture. And when a coward’s free will rammed into my angel’s simple errand, it ended in pain beyond measure.

My head also knows God can stop or change any situation.

That part — the idea that Rasheed’s death could have been stopped or changed or postponed or just happened a different way – one not some gruesome – tears apart my soul.

However, within these last few months I’ve begun to understand that my pain and suffering isn’t the exception.

Because of free will, pain is a part of all of our stories. No one is immune. Some receive less. That’s not because they’re blessed more or less. Sometimes it just is what it is. Being human, being alive, and being on this earth means each of us will experience pain in some way shape or form.

“It’s not fair” constantly eeks into my brain and my heart several times a week. It’s not fair that I met the man of my dreams and he was yanked from my life just when everything was falling into place. It’s not fair that I’m forced to grieve while also searching for two cowards who are two of the three people responsible for killing my husband and didn’t have the decency to stop and check on him. None of this is fair. I think we can all easily agree on that one.

But God didn’t promise life would be fair.

We all could have had that chance if things had worked out differently in the very beginning. However, that option was taken away from me and you way too long ago.

Rasheed truly was an angel on this earth.

To know how he was ripped from this place in such a senseless manner, in such a tragic way, hurts. It hurts more than words can express. The images burned in my brain and my heart – sting and gnaw at my soul.

The fact I never had my beautiful hand-holding moment with him in the hospital, slowly agreeing to let go of him and allow him to drift away – even though there’s never a “good” way for your spouse to die and I’d never be ready for it – angers me. It angers me on top of the hurt and the pain and the confusion that accompany death.

No one warned us about that day.

No one warned me how my life would change in the most unassuming of moments.

No one even braced my brain as I grabbed our dog’s leash and threw on a hoodie to find what I assumed would be my husband talking to his dad on his cell in the parking lot all loud and unaware of the time that had passed since he walked out of our door that night.

That didn’t happen.

What followed only lead to my heart being ripped from my body in a moment my head couldn’t understand. Trying to understand the words being said to me in a matter of fact tone. Trying to understand how this was possible. Where were the paramedics? Where was his smile and his protective, reassuring glance, letting me know everything was okay and he was handling it?

Yes. I do believe God can still allow some good to be ushered into the world and the lives of those touched by my beloved husband despite his death. However, I must be completely honest with you, it’s going to take me a while – perhaps my entire life – to be grateful for whatever blessings come out of Rasheed’s death. I’m human. And if that shows my spiritual immaturity, then so be it.

This whole journey has done nothing but force me to bare my soul – to God, to my family and to Rasheed. In search of peace, in search of understanding, in search of some way to try to remain down here on this evil planet and not lose my mind, I must be honest. It’s how Rasheed lived. It’s how we lived. And now that honesty is a painful reminder of every dream that has died and every muscle of mine that still needs to be worked on.

…and that’s my reason behind writing this post.

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