394191
I was a number. As a number 394191, I created a person. September — She knelt beside her bed tonight, her hands folded in prayer, though her heart could scarcely follow her lips. She said that she loved God. And yet, beneath the words, there lingered a question she scarcely dared to speak: Why, then, is she so afraid? She has prayed until the words became whispers, until her tears seemed more faithful than anything her tongue could utter. Still, the sorrow remains. There are moments when she almost believes that Providence has written some gentle purpose upon the pages of her life. Then misfortune comes. One door closes. One hope is taken. One more grief is placed upon shoulders already weary from carrying the last. And she looks toward Heaven and wonders— Why did God let this happen to her? The question troubles her. She fears that doubt is a kind of betrayal, that sorrow is proof of a faith too frail to deserve the mercy for which she prays. Yet perhaps God does not despis...