Two thousand and seventeen came in unnoticed. Two thousand and sixteen had slipped away unnoticed. Life and living seemed a burden. My son had died wanting desperately to live. What was left?
Anger at a God whom had created an imperfect world. He knew that choices and perspectives would shape the world we lived in. The choices we made shaped who we were and who our children would be. An imperfect sperm paired with a less than perfect egg created a child who was born with a birth defect. Not of God’s making; nature has a way of maintaining an imperfect Universe; a Universe we make from choices.
God and the Universe watched. What would the perspective be of the life of this child.
This is my thought as I continue my journey. I do not want to write anymore about this today; maybe tomorrow, if I wake.