So the question has been raised... why would I be angry at a G-d who loves me and has blessed me so much? I guess where do I start?

Everyone knows of the verse (Matthew 7:5) that talks about hypocrites instating that a person who is more concerned about the spec in another's eye misses the plank in theor own.... in other words, a person who becomes so overly concerned about the small blemishes and sins of others often miss the large messes they are leaving in their own wake. 

Forgiveness. Forgiveness is what allows us to seperate ourselves from our own sins. Forgiveness, this great gift given so freely and generously, is what allows us to feel the great love to forgive others around us... no matter the transgressors that have been done. And drives us to sin no more. But what happend when that flow stops? 

It is easy to forgive when the transgression ends and there is time to heal. In that healing there can be forgiveness and forward motion. But what happens when that series of transgressions is never ending? What happens when the barrow rolls of waves never ends, and there is no room to get a breath let alone heal or forgive? What then?

I am a therapist by trade... but who does the Dr go to when they are sick? Only the Great Physician. But what happens when the Great Physician refuses to heal or even assist, but instaed perscribed more pain in return?

It is hard for me to talk details or specifics without crying huge tears and losing myself for hours. but I will try......

I never had a real family. That is laughable to say because I am few priviligded peple to have 2 parents that are still married after almost 40 years.... they started late.... But let me tell you, they only recently started living together and have never really liked each other. 

When my dad met my mom, he had just recetly started driving over the road semi - accross the country and where ever the money took him. They saw each other only on weekends, and only for a few hours at a time because of my dad's lack of sleep and lack of time at home. My parents marriage was more of the arranged sort. Their parents both had a child they no longer wanted calling their house their residence, and so the marriage was agreed on.... dowery included. Sounds like my parents are from some rural, indignant country, but they are both white, born and bred in the USA .... only coming from a back country where these sorts of thoughts are still to this day acceptable. 

My mother hated me. She never wanted me. She to this day will remind me of that. She had a miscarriage just before getting pregnant with me, and hated my father for tricking her to having sex, in her words. I also tore out her uterous when I was born, cauing her a great deal of pain, and an emergency hyserectamy. Let alone, I was a girl. The indignace... a girl. The worth of a woman is in the make children they can have. My older brother was fine, but then she lost the boy between us, gave birth to a ... a girl..... and then lost the ability to have any more children. All of this was my fault. 

My mother was horridly depressed after my birth. She seldome held or touched me. I survived - she was not cuel, but as soon as I could walk, I was given responsibilities. I was a woman - and the oldest female in the family - so it was my responsibility to care for the household. And so I did. I waited on my brother, who would in turn beat and assult me; I cared for mt mother, who in turn would only remind me of my insignificance in the owrld; and I cared for household tasks, which I could never get right and would ensue more screaming and beating. 

All of this time, my father would be away. The only working member of the family, he would be in the truck for 5-6 days a week. So when he was home, I would cling to him, beg for his love. Beg to go with him in the truck. Beg to take me away from the ongoing torchure. In return, my mother's family would call me a whore and a charlet, assuming that because I clung so hard to my father, we must have been romanticly involved. My mother would check my female parts after he would leave, because she knew that somehow I had managed to have sex with my father right under her nose. Nothing could have been closer to the truth - he barely had time to look at he, caring for his own parents, a farm he did not live at, and a house he did live at in the 12-48 hours a week he was home. But I always elected to work with him when he was home because even though the work was ahrder, and not for women as I was often reminded, it was work I did not get chasized for doing wrong, but instaed taught how to do correctly and even praised at times for completing, and I longed for that praise so much. 

My only hope was to make it through school the best I could, stay away from home as much as possible, and run away to college. But yet, I was still obligated to do what was required of me at home, and only complicated my own situation by limiting the time I had avaialable to do these things. I would be reminded that G-d called us to love the place we were in and do it with the best of our ability, but who ever this G-d was... This G-d of my childhood - I wanted nothing to do with him because he obviousky hated me to never rescue me like so many of the women I heard of in stories. I would try to call CYS to get out, but that would only make it worse, so I instead sffered through it silently, castized by friends and family for my odd behaviors and extreme anger, and never accepted by my peers or my family. 

I hoped in college that I would meet the man of my dreams, drop out, and move far away. The first man I met who promised that, left. Leaving me in a larger state of crazy than I had ever been. But in this time, I also learned of a new version of G-d. a loving father who longed for us. A version that had never been presented in the hell fire and brimstone churches and peiple of my past. I wanted to share thsi with the world. It liberated me. Freed me from my past. I became a missionary. I became a persurer or religious texts. I learned more about my own religion, why I believed it, and what other religions are about in those 5 years than most do in their whole lives. I devoted myself to learning, knowing taht only knowledge could help me now. G-d lead me to what classes to take, where I was to go, and he put a new man in my life, one that seemed to keep popping up and coming back. But the inevitable was to happen. 

I am a planner - I plan everything. Control in planning and the comfort in those plans being sucessful were one of the few things that I did have control in for my life. What I had not planned for in going to college was graduating. after 5 years I was going to graduate. So I went on a quest. A quest to commune with G-d and find a direction for what I knew I had to go back to. But now it was worse...

expectations higher. Compairions deeper. Never could I say I was more afraid, but at laest I would have a man with me who did love me and wanted to support me. But what support did he end up being? He hated our children when they were young, so with me working to pay off his bills, my loans, and for the farm my children practically raised by the mother who hated me so, and took this anger out on my very young children. 

and it continued with the man who lived over me at the farm - my uncle - my father's brother - reminding me of my insignificance as a woman, though relying on my money to live. His children coming to my house to terrorize my family. Shooting at me and my children. I was to stay none the less. But why? 

I am skipping so much, but right when my happily ever after was in my grasp. I has a career, a home no longer ruled over by another, a husband who wanted to be more involved in the family, my father had retired and wanted to spend time with his grandkids, and my 2 amazing blessings of children showed thier great ability to raise above it all..... then I had to move. Leave the only place I had called home to start again in this dreadful place. 

I am starting from the bottom again. Never see my family. Never have time to get my paperwork done. Don't get paid for my stress and pain. Fight with schools - for my children and others. And deal with again being reminded how insignificant I am and unwanted I am.... and we are so behind in bills that I cannot afford our life here and threaten to loose everything at any moment because we make far less and expenses are far higher. 

Where is the love from this G-d? Where are the blessings for his people? Where is the justice?

I stopped asking for forgiveness and decided to stop feeling guilty because I had too much guilt in shame in my life already, and the only thing I got from asking for forgivesness and trying to show love to those who persected me as more persecution. 

I am no Paul. When I am stoned and chased out, left for dead, I do not have the support of friends to keep going. Infact - I have no friends. I have no one that loves me. The burdens placed on my children and I are too great. 

I have lost the ability to try to forgive others and love them regardless because my pain is too great that has been caused by them and they only continue to cause more. I cannot cut all of these people from my life - though I have tried to limit their influences on myself and my family. 

Even in this move, though... G-d took away the reason for moving - the only blessing in moving... the ability to pay for our house and have free health care ... because shorly after moving my husband lost his job we moved for. 

How can I love someone who does not love me back? How can I not be angry with G-d for this?

I am the most knowledgeable religious person I know, so the few people who have tried to help me cannot answer my simple questions because they do not understand their own religion. Infact, I have regrettably and unfortunately caused people to lose their religion in my few questions. 

So here they are....   When I forgive those that hurt me so deeply, and ask for G-d to help, why does the help only seem to include these parties hurting me more?    Why did G-d call me to work with others, and then leave my family to suffer so much from it?     Why did I pray for my husbands understandinga and his soul's securrance and when he tells me he finds G-d, the only thing he truly finds is more love of himself and not of others?      When will the pain end?

:) Susie