Chances not Wanted

Something happened to you when you were very young. Maybe in the womb you were injured by the fact your mother smoked or drank or did drugs. Maybe it was a disease, genetic or otherwise or while you were being born something went wrong in your delivery. But you made it. You’re alive. Nobody aborted you even as you came out. And you grew like a baby should.

You had special needs but things were okay. You were making it and then one day one of the older ones shook you, or slammed you into something and you were crippled for life and condemned to operations and chronic pain throughout it. And you grew to become a woman or a man stuck within the limitations of your handicap.

It wasn’t your fault. God allowed you to be what you are, the best person you could be. Maybe you live in a nursing home and have most of your life. Maybe it’s a group home for the disabled and handicapped. Sometimes your family members come to visit you and the staff is nice and most often patient with you. You look at it that you may be handicapped but you don’t have to be a bad person because of it. You might even be able to live independently and you like living on your own with or without special help cleaning, preparing foods or getting to places people without a handicap can get to much more easily. But you won’t give up. You can’t give up. It’s either that or living in a group home or ending up helpless or nearly that.

You try to keep busy. You try to be helpful to anyone you can but mostly you try to be grateful for all the assistance, financial and otherwise, little things those without a handicap do with ease. You don’t even wonder anymore what it would have been like. It is what it is and it’s about all you’ve ever known. You strive to live as normal a life as you can.

You may even have people in your life that are Christians or at least claim to be that. They help you all they can but they keep reminding you that you are handicapped and it makes it hard to distract yourself and just live your life. So what. So you have a few beers and watch what you want on TV. You spend a lot of time alone and sometimes you get lonesome and you don’t know why. You have friends and they like you and they help you by just being themselves and letting you be the person you are, not just a handicapped body that they care about helping but a real person they can relate to and enjoy your company just as you enjoy theirs. You look forward to seeing them and they are glad to come visit. And you are no more lonely you expect than most anyone. It’s a hard life but you don’t dwell on it and they don’t reminisce about the dark times they’ve had or get negative. You laugh. You joke. Sometimes you drink and smoke and watch sports or some other event on TV but you miss most of it because you’re actually having too much fun socializing. And the present slips away into the past and the future arrives in the usual way.

You’ve heard about people with worse disabilities than you have doing amazingly normal things even better than most without a disability. But you’re getting old and it doesn’t look like you’ll ever get married or have a long lasting relationship with someone you love, just the two of you struggling against your body, your emotions and even in some cases your mental difficulties.

It all takes its toll. Life seems to be passing you up or passing you by. But you don’t get in much trouble. Your handicap saves you from a lot of that. Then you get sick or injure yourself and they put you through hell at the hospital and are amazed at how well you handle it.

But finally one day you realize that you’ve done things wrong in your life too. Everybody has you know deep down. But when you die, what happens then. Do you get a perfect body and have to learn all that those with no handicap had to deal with? You’ve thought about it before but you never could really make any sense out of it. Besides God made you handicapped or he allowed what happened to you to happen. Who really wants anything to do with that? Forever? Forever! Forever…

You try not to be bitter about it. You’re a good person, the best person you could be, given what you’ve had to live with. But if there is one thing you’ve learned it is that it isn’t easy being you, but then it isn’t easy being anyone.

But you don’t love God. You aren’t made anew. A new spirit, the same spirit you started with doing things someone else’ way even God’s way. You’re too independent for that. You don’t know it but that independence as valuable as it seemed to you and the other dead was what killed you in the end. You can’t forgive those that did this too you. You can’t forgive God for allowing them to do it.

You are bitter whether you want to be or not and you realize you’ve been that way since before your earliest memory. A lot of what you’ve done is just to put off feeling like you do, thinking like that. It’s a hindrance just like being depressed because of your pain- that damned pain. It seems worse when you feel negative like this. But you realize that will never change. You’re dying and your body isn’t going to function too much longer. What a relief in a way. What a relief to know you are coming to the end of it forever.

You wouldn’t want to go to heaven even if you could. Heaven isn’t like you and you know it. And if hell is all there is at the end of the road… well… it’s nothing new in a way. You accept it and one day way too far off your body shuts down but you have pneumonia and sleep all the time. So you don’t notice. And you go to hell and wait and wait and wait distracted by the others there at first. It’s unacceptable. It just doesn’t seem fair from the start of it to this end.

You don’t know it but you never really lived after you began to do anything that you knew ought not to be done but you did it anyway, sometimes for good reason but sometimes you just did it. Then at last judgment day comes and as expected you are thrown into torment never to have to be sad about who you are, what became of you and what was impossible for you. And you join the rest of the dead and the cursed there and do what they do completely distracted from thinking about anything else forever.

No more guilt is there, no more looking down on yourself or others for anything you or they did. You have forgiven everything you could but you couldn’t shake that bitterness that killed you long ago and left you in hell just waiting for this end. And if only you could think about it instead of being completely distracted you might agree with those who think it is the act of an evil God that would even allow something like this to happen to anyone but especially you.

But if you had turned and not forgiven yourself for being bitter toward God and changed your mind and asked him to forgive you and let you out of the hell you were in that was getting worse and worse because you wouldn’t forgive God and he forgave you and helped you, and loved you and taught you all you could learn about being like him, loving yourself, the real you that you aren’t afraid of anymore, and continued to love God, and to be loved by God and loving all others not just the children of God but everybody even the one you really turned out to be that would have been real. You would have had a perfect body. No one is crippled in heaven. No one is mentally handicapped with a learning disability there either. You would have been you but with everything blowing your mind for a long time it was so very good.

But you didn’t. You chose to die and remain dead, creating your own hell in Earth, seeing it take shape and what the finished project was like in hell and then, the ultimate punishment torment, better than fair, even merciful, and far better than the hell you had always known, the shame you had for the way you had lived with the truth staring you in the eye during all that time waiting…

If you could feel anything but the burning raw pain of the ever fresh sulfur burns you would be glad you didn’t have to really think anymore and that at least you couldn’t help but endure your punishment with no end to it ever that you might ever have to go through anymore of that you had always known so it seems. And we all forgot you, God included and you were completely punished because of the hell you made for yourself and found it not just unacceptable when you thought of it but all the time you were there.

It ended the only way there was for it to end. There was no place and no way for you to feel anything but even worse than you did and justice was satisfied, God’s judgment was merciful, and everyone else that created something good, wonderful and beautiful of their lives even if they didn’t mean to, lived on not even burdened by your memory, the memories of all those there with you, the entirety of the entire evil thing you never could have remembered not being a part of forever and ever also.

The perfect end. Death. Death of your handicapped body. Death of your bitter, negative, emotions you had kept at bay as long as was possible. Death of your will and spirit, a release from hell. And free from harming anyone that had any real knowledge of how awful it had been being you with even the memory of you. Nothing, but less than you deserved and nothing else but a punishment that would safely last unchanged and unchangeable forever and ever to God’s glory.


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