I have sat on this story for months. Not sure if I would ever write about it and if I did, would I be able to properly explain and describe what it is about. Then a voice and we know from where, told me to just sit down and start writing. So here we are.
As you all know that read my stories, I spend a lot of time at the cemetery visiting my mom. It is most therapeutic for me in so many ways. One day while visiting something happened that I will never forget.
As I sat on the grass, a car pulled up and a guy got out. He waved, I waved and he went on his way to another part of the cemetery. About fifteen minutes later, I heard screaming and was startled. It stopped as quickly as it came to me. I dismissed it and a few minutes later, it happened again. Muffled, but loud so I got up to see what was going on. As I walked to my car, I realized it was the guy that had waved at me earlier.
He kept this going for a good 20 minutes but only certain parts were loud and the whole thing captivated me in every way possible. We have all screamed at God at different points in our life but this was hitting me differently because he was mad. I waited for him to finish because I had to talk to him.
I walked over and introduced myself. He laughed and apologized for being loud and we started to talk.
“I am sorry, I was just screaming at God.” He paused for a few moments. “I don’t come here a lot but when I do I have a lot to say. To God. To my parents. A lot to say so I get it all off my chest or at least try to. I get mad at Him for things that happened in my life, but it is not His fault. I still get mad though and I know He is listening. I get mad that my parents are no longer here and I want Him to know that I miss them. I wanted them here to see things that my kids have done or will do and they aren’t so I get mad.”
He paused for a good bit and held back tears and he asked me why I was here and told him. He asked if I ever get mad at God and I said absolutely. A lot. But, it does my soul no good yet I still get mad. I get mad when things don’t go my way or I let things pile up and then I need someone to yell at and it ends up being Him. He asked do I regret things I have said and I shook my head and said of course.
“I have a lot to be thankful for,” I told him, “that I have learned over time to thank God for that, instead of the alternative. Once I stopped blaming Him and others for my problems, my life got a million times better. I still get mad though and I think God, at least to me, wants us to talk to Him, whether it is screaming or quiet, and I hope one day to ask.”
He paused again and look at his parents’ graves and said to me, “I still need to scream at Him. I am not there where you are just yet. Maybe one day but it does me good to get all of this off my chest.” I shook his hand and told him to do what he needs to do and walked off.
Screaming at God.
I walked back to my car and thought of all the times I have screamed at God. Goodness, there has been a lot. When my mom died, I was mad, very mad, for a long time. I screamed a lot. The worst was when I was about to run out of gas somewhere in Kentucky because I got lost and GP wasn’t working and was late getting somewhere. How stupid am I to blame God for what was my fault? Exactly.
Since that day, I have asked myself if screaming at God helps us in any way. I don’t know and maybe someone has the answer. As I was writing this, a few lines from a song came to mind which helped:
“Some days it don’t come easy, Some days it don’t come hard; Some days it don’t come at all, and those are the days that never end.”
So I say scream if you have to, because He is listening.