Dear God.

Am I not allowed to doubt Your existence when something like this has happened to a country already riddled with turmoil? My country?

I sit here drinking rosehip tea in a swanky hotel while thousands upon thousands have lost everything dear to them. And yes, I am so very grateful for all of my countless blessings. But I don’t understand this. I wish I could be like my sisters who say, “There is a reason for everything. When God closes a door, He opened a window” but I don’t see the silver lining in this. I don’t see the good that can come out of such tragedy. All those innocent children. All the homes.

I’m so mad at You right now. I don’t think I want to talk to You for a while.

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