Where are You in All This

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God, I wonder...
Do you hear me?
See I know we haven't spoke
In quiet awhile
And I know I've probably sinned
More than once or twice
And I'm not good at asking for forgiveness
So I'll continue to write these poems.
God, are you out there?
The man I look up to
Questions you too
In some ways, that comforts me
In others, it destroys me.
Today we discussed
If one could be a person without you
And Your Love.
They talk and talk
About a soul
And how we don't have one
They debate and debate
About the capacity 
Of relating
To you.
They ask
If you're disabled
Does that make you less...
Human?
Can you find God
Without mental capacities?
Have you forsaken me, God -
Am I just a slave to this disability?
Did you take one look at me at birth -
No, before birth -
And say I was ugly?
No, these are thoughts they raised in me
Not my parents
College professors and this class.
See my professor,
He asks us
Where can we find God,
In one's suffering?
Where can one find God,
In disability, mental illness
And other disease?
You keep saying
As psychologists
We need to ask these questions
Stop.
I've spent too long in this life
Asking myself these exact questions
See, God, I've finally found peace in the belief
That you love everyone - LGBT-
Q, included.
But now my faith
Shakes once more.
Now I'm here once more
Wanting to scream on the floor
I'm not one for the abstract
I need that puzzle to sort out
I need Your answers
But I don't have them
And you're as silent as ever.
I believe. I believe, I am a Christian, you see.
But sometimes you make it so hard to see.
If suffering is part of this, then where does that leave me?
And others, with mental disability
And mental illness?
I'm a psychologist, you see
I can't believe
In a God that would make others suffer
In such a way.
But I believe in you
So I can't ask where you are in all this
Because I can't believe so many people suffer
When you are supposed to be loving
And what could I have done
When I wasn't even out of the womb
For you to give me this adversity?

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