Angry at God

Someone has asked me (privately) why I am angry at God. I get angry at God from time to time and for various reasons but, at the moment, its very specific.

WARNING: This is a very depressing post. If you are looking for light entertainment, you may want to leave now. I just need to get this off my chest, and then normal service will resume as soon as possible.

I have a friend who I will call Judy here. She has been through a hell of a lot. When she was only 18 years old, she married a man who was never much good. He was one of those hopeless young men who just can't seem to get their act together and don't really even try. Who can't find and stay in work, but are no use around the house. Who can't be entrusted with any responsibility because they always let you down. Who, despite the fact that they have three kids and virtually no income, sit around all day smoking dope. And whose behaviour is often erratic and pointlessly destructive. Her parents, despairing of how she was living and wanting to help, gave them a house to live in. He went into a rage one day and destroyed it.

She left him, but he kept swearing he'd change. He also said he'd kill himself if she didn't come back. She was worried about him. So she kept going back and then leaving again a few months later when nothing changed.

Then he was in a drink driving accident and his brain was injured. Judy nursed him but, as his condition improved, it became apparent that he had lost all control of himself. He was violent. One day, he threw their youngest child across the room. She realized that she was sacrificing her life to help him grow stronger, and now he was stronger to the point that he was a danger to her and the kids. She left again.

And one day, as she was driving in to work, she heard a commotion. A man had thrown himself from the window of a tall building and onto the pavement. It was him. He had killed himself, deliberately choosing the time and place so that she would encounter what he had done on her way to work and in order to cause her the maximum possible anguish and guilt.

Anyway, Judy has raised her three children alone since then as a young widow. The kids have had a number of issues, most of which are traceable to this traumatic background. But they are a surprisingly cheerful family, on the whole, very intelligent and lively and artistic. And she has battled on, getting her degree and a job and raising them alone on very little money. She works like a serf, that woman. And everything that love and relentless hard work can achieve, she has achieved.

I find her remarkable. She is quiet, so people don't always notice or appreciate her. But when you get to know her, she is so kind and interesting and wise. She is my closest friend. We are honorary members of each others' family, meeting up regularly and sharing holidays together. She has given me some very good advice at crucial moments of my life. And I respect and admire her more than I can say.

So, she is finally at the point in her life where the kids are growing up. She has had a long term dream of becoming a writer and living on a country property. Needless to say, there is no chance of that while she is supporting the kids. But we have talked many times about all the wonderful things she will be able to do in just a few years time. About how finally, for the first time since she was 18 years old, she has the opportunity to get a life that is not all about other people.

And now her oldest child, Rachel, has been diagnosed with Huntington's Disease. This is a horrible disease that causes cell death in parts of the brain. It is genetic. Symptoms include physical problems like loss of coordination and control over the body, mental problems like loss of concentration and memory, and emotional problems like depression, anxiety, mood swings, aggression and hypersexuality. Essentially, it slowly kills the person's ability to walk, talk, think and reason. Ultimately, they cannot look after themselves and are completely dependent on being cared for. They usually die from complications like choking or heart failure. There is no effective treatment and no cure.

And Rachel is such a lovely girl. She had some problems a few years ago, but she has turned out so beautifully. So intelligent, so poised, so thoughtful, rather serious for her age but also great fun. She is only 18 years old and her whole life should be ahead of her. I look at her and I just can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. I can hardly bear to think of that lovely girl with her dying brain.

And I can hardly bear to think of Judy's pain. In knowing that this is going to happen, that this is inevitable, that her beloved child will have to go through this. And seeing her own future as a carer for her child, just going on and on, the sacrifices endless. And the other two children haven't been tested yet.

So that is why I am angry at God at the moment.

People give all kinds of answers to the problem of suffering, of the terrible things that happen in the world. Some of the answers from people who believe in God are thoughtful and slightly consoling. A lot of them are so glib that they are an insult to the person who is suffering and to anyone who loves that person.

The problem for me in all this is not so much an intellectual or theological one. It is emotional. When terrible things happen to you or to people you love, there is a kind of despair that can grip you. Some loss of the illusion that the universe is in any sense a friendly and just place and that good people and decent behaviour like Judy's will be rewarded. We rely on those kinds of illusions. Even when bad things happen, we have some kind of optimism and faith that we will get through them and will be alright in the end.

But sometimes we are brought up hard against the knowledge that we may not be alright. That the universe can just decide to quash us like an insect and sometimes there is nothing we can do.

At times like that, it seems impossible to believe in the Christian idea of a loving God who is interested in us and has the power to change our circumstances but chooses not to do so. A belief in such a God seems naive and foolish and only possible for people who are not being squashed at the moment. Smug people who still have their illusions intact. At times like that, the universe seems indifferent, arbitrary and even mindlessly cruel. It feels like either God doesn't exist or that he has a hell of a lot to answer for.

No wonder Judy is an atheist.