In 12 step rooms I am reminded that “figuring it out is not a step”. I try to apply this when the Why Me? gets too loud regarding my daughter’s genetic disorder, my metastatic breast cancer, or other painful challenges in this life. I take comfort in the worldview that things are as they are because the causes and conditions are present for them to arise. It’s not personal. It’s simply the way life is unfolding right now. I can argue with it if I want, but taking it personally just adds suffering.
As the parent of an adult child with multiple disabilities since birth, I put aside that question years ago and applied all my professional training and experience to creating a better life for her and her peers. So much so, like many hubbies in my world, I’m now doing it as a single mom - relying upon Social Service programs to survive. I know God is with me every day, but sadly, not in the pews - where we have struggled the most.
I always find him here, among all of you. And, I’m glad!
What a courageous and honest question and what a beautiful answer. I have a beautiful, smart, funny 30 year old daughter who has had 5 open heart surgeries and now, at times, struggles to breathe without supplemental oxygen. She has had to quit teaching and is struggling to find work she can do. Thank you, both, for opening up one of the "big" questions". Sometimes we can be philosophical about suffering but so hard when we are smack dab in the center of it. Life is not fair. Life is beautiful.
I love this. I needed this. I will be thinking about this all day and then some. Whether it shows up as a pity party (why should *I* be the one to suffer) or an insecure response to impostor syndrome (why should *I* get this promotion/opportunity), I never fail to feel like I've walked into a trap. I think maybe "why me?!" is the most cunning disguise shame dons in my life. Maybe that's why the invitation to ask the opposite question of "why NOT me" feels so grace-filled. After all, grace, in my experience, is an amazing antidote to shame.
Many decades ago my wife's aunt had cancer and was dying. I didn't know her well. Someone in the family asked "Do you ever wish that this had happened to someone else?" "No, she replied, this is too horrible to wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy."
I'm old and crippled from four back surgeries, unable to care for myself now, but I don't ask why me, nor wish it occurred to anyone else. I'm content to live with the suffering I have and happy to see so many my own age (78), able to function well. I have remembered that lady's words for most of my life. She made a difference in my attitude.
When my 51 year old son took his own life after a 14-year battle with bipolar disorder by setting himself on fire in my kitchen and sent me to the hospital with 3rd degree burns on 30% of my body, this question was uppermost on my mind. I had been praying that God would either heal him or “take him Home”. Ipso facto, my 56 days in the hospital during the pandemic was my punishment for “wishing him dead”.
Once I was out of the hospital and weaned myself off the massive amount of opioids the hospital generously prescribed, and with the help of God and a good therapist, I can say, “Why not me?”.
Occasionally, that stinking thinking will pop up, but I am gradually letting go of guilt and anger and self-pity. I am learning to accept the reality that I don’t have all the answers. What I do know is that I did the best I could with what I had, and Tim made his own decisions, including refusing to cooperate in his treatment.
I have survived. I am stronger for having survived. Indeed, why NOT me?
I think “Why me?” walks very closely with our ideas of fairness. We want to believe that God is both very personal and very fair. I have lost three dear loved ones to lung cancer in my life. It was an eye-opening experience for me when I told others about the loved one’s diagnosis. In each case, universally, the first thing said by every person, every time was not: How are they doing now? Or, I’m so sorry to hear it.
In every case, the first remark was: Did they smoke? As if that would make my loved one’s suffering acceptable because it was “fair.”
For me, remembering that God certainly didn’t spare his own son from suffering helps me to remember that whatever I or my loved one is going through, it’s not about fairness.
By the way, the answer in every case was No, none of them had ever smoked.
When my sons were 17 and 15 they were in a car accident together. (Neither was driving which is why they are still alive today). It could have been so bad. Thank God they were injured but healed. After the trauma was over and they were home I sat them down and told them to remember that night. That in a second, the twinkling of an eye, everything can change. A dear pastor, one of my instructors said that in a class years ago. One of the pearls I hold on to especially during these extraordinary times.
When I was a first unit CPE student in a large urban hospital I was shocked by the suffering I saw. In a session with my supervisor I asked "why?" Her answer, which I constantly have reminded myself for almost 20years of chaplaincy was "'why' is not a useful question. It leads us nowhere. Go back and do the work. "
My son died from his addiction in 2017. People said some of the most profoundly tone deaf things and I had to finally realize it came from a place of fear. That “if it happened to them it could happen to us - and equally terrifying to admit that we do not, in fact, have the power to control the universe.” As I’ve learned more about addiction- that I really wish I’d known sooner - I realize how more appropriate the words “why NOT me.”
I lived a "why me?" experience when my son almost died at 8 yo for a bad peritonitis, it was December and I left my wife with him at the hospital passing the night after a really difficult surgery.
Then he got better and God gave us him back home on Christmas Eve, the real gift, the real love.
When we were in the hospital we met kids with cancer, kids with bad illness waiting for surgeries...
A lot of "why me?" and "why them?".
And we met the guys that come to distract kids and families dressed like clowns.
I accepted that things like that happen and saw how much love comes from God through wonderful surgeons, nurses, parents and kids too.
A work colleague of mine once confided in me, in answer to my casual, routine “Good morning! How are you?” greeting, that she had suddenly been diagnosed with colon cancer in an advanced stage! I expressed my earnest shock and concern… “I’m sooo sorry to hear this…”, etc…… and asked how she was feeling, coming into work that morning. What she said amazed me. She said, “My first reaction was ‘Why me??’ But then I thought… ‘Why NOT me?’” I thought to myself, how profound and what a helpful attitude! She was able to start treatments and endure surgery without carrying the additional burden of blame, or anger or the “why” question. I don’t know if I would be able to be so objective if faced with a similar critical situation, but I hope that I would.
And the “Where is God in this? “ question always takes me back to a story by Nobel Peace Prize winner and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel in his book entitled Night. He speaks of the horrific executions of the prisoners by the Nazi officials, and tells of the horror of an incident of the simultaneous hangings of two men and a little boy… when, after the “snap”, the two men were declared instantly dead, but the little boy was too light to cause the rope to bring instant death. He hung there in agony for another 30 minutes before he finally died. One of the prisoners in the crowd, in horror of this unthinkable act to an innocent little boy, cried “Where is God in all of this?” After a pause, a voice came from within…. “God is there… God is in the gallows.” God is always with all of us… and especially in our worst suffering.
I'm 73. I contracted polio when I was 3 1/3 months old. My father died a month later (age 33) leaving my mother a widow with 4 children under 9 1/2 in 1951. By age 19, ihad 13 surgeries, 2 broken femurs and 2 shattered hips. In my early 20's I wrote a silly poem about Jesus' cross holding my cross. At 36, I married a widower with 2 children (10 & 12). When the 12 year old was 19, the police knocked on our door on father's day morning telling us he died in a roll over accident. Someone told me "growing old is a privilege denied to many". When I read the first line of your essay, my response was "why not me?" We all ask "why me?" as if we are protected from bad things. Bad things have happened to human beings since the dawn of time. "Why not me?" Is never a question we don't ask. I now ask "what can I learn?, how can I grow!" I give myself time for a pity party then ask my question and get down to the very hard work of living. Life isn't fair. If it was, Jesus wouldn't have needed to come to earth to show us how to live.
In 12 step rooms I am reminded that “figuring it out is not a step”. I try to apply this when the Why Me? gets too loud regarding my daughter’s genetic disorder, my metastatic breast cancer, or other painful challenges in this life. I take comfort in the worldview that things are as they are because the causes and conditions are present for them to arise. It’s not personal. It’s simply the way life is unfolding right now. I can argue with it if I want, but taking it personally just adds suffering.
Amen.
As the parent of an adult child with multiple disabilities since birth, I put aside that question years ago and applied all my professional training and experience to creating a better life for her and her peers. So much so, like many hubbies in my world, I’m now doing it as a single mom - relying upon Social Service programs to survive. I know God is with me every day, but sadly, not in the pews - where we have struggled the most.
I always find him here, among all of you. And, I’m glad!
Glad you're here., Teri. xo
Awww, thanks! I love what you’ve created! ☮️💟☯️
What a courageous and honest question and what a beautiful answer. I have a beautiful, smart, funny 30 year old daughter who has had 5 open heart surgeries and now, at times, struggles to breathe without supplemental oxygen. She has had to quit teaching and is struggling to find work she can do. Thank you, both, for opening up one of the "big" questions". Sometimes we can be philosophical about suffering but so hard when we are smack dab in the center of it. Life is not fair. Life is beautiful.
Thanks for posting, Paulette. I hope your daughter finds meaningful work that suits her.
Has your daughter considered applying for DVR services in your state?
I will
Ask her. Thank you Judith.
I will ask. Thank you
I love this. I needed this. I will be thinking about this all day and then some. Whether it shows up as a pity party (why should *I* be the one to suffer) or an insecure response to impostor syndrome (why should *I* get this promotion/opportunity), I never fail to feel like I've walked into a trap. I think maybe "why me?!" is the most cunning disguise shame dons in my life. Maybe that's why the invitation to ask the opposite question of "why NOT me" feels so grace-filled. After all, grace, in my experience, is an amazing antidote to shame.
It's pretty good stuff, huh?
Many decades ago my wife's aunt had cancer and was dying. I didn't know her well. Someone in the family asked "Do you ever wish that this had happened to someone else?" "No, she replied, this is too horrible to wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy."
I'm old and crippled from four back surgeries, unable to care for myself now, but I don't ask why me, nor wish it occurred to anyone else. I'm content to live with the suffering I have and happy to see so many my own age (78), able to function well. I have remembered that lady's words for most of my life. She made a difference in my attitude.
So take that sweet moment
to see, to cry, to breath
before love comes
and we are crushed into each others’ arms.
—Street
When my 51 year old son took his own life after a 14-year battle with bipolar disorder by setting himself on fire in my kitchen and sent me to the hospital with 3rd degree burns on 30% of my body, this question was uppermost on my mind. I had been praying that God would either heal him or “take him Home”. Ipso facto, my 56 days in the hospital during the pandemic was my punishment for “wishing him dead”.
Once I was out of the hospital and weaned myself off the massive amount of opioids the hospital generously prescribed, and with the help of God and a good therapist, I can say, “Why not me?”.
Occasionally, that stinking thinking will pop up, but I am gradually letting go of guilt and anger and self-pity. I am learning to accept the reality that I don’t have all the answers. What I do know is that I did the best I could with what I had, and Tim made his own decisions, including refusing to cooperate in his treatment.
I have survived. I am stronger for having survived. Indeed, why NOT me?
Maggie, your story took my breath away. I think your thing about "I did the best I could and he made his own choices" smacks of grace and wisdom.
Glad you're still here, sister.
I think “Why me?” walks very closely with our ideas of fairness. We want to believe that God is both very personal and very fair. I have lost three dear loved ones to lung cancer in my life. It was an eye-opening experience for me when I told others about the loved one’s diagnosis. In each case, universally, the first thing said by every person, every time was not: How are they doing now? Or, I’m so sorry to hear it.
In every case, the first remark was: Did they smoke? As if that would make my loved one’s suffering acceptable because it was “fair.”
For me, remembering that God certainly didn’t spare his own son from suffering helps me to remember that whatever I or my loved one is going through, it’s not about fairness.
By the way, the answer in every case was No, none of them had ever smoked.
"Life isn't fair" is one of the truest things my mother ever taught me.
When my sons were 17 and 15 they were in a car accident together. (Neither was driving which is why they are still alive today). It could have been so bad. Thank God they were injured but healed. After the trauma was over and they were home I sat them down and told them to remember that night. That in a second, the twinkling of an eye, everything can change. A dear pastor, one of my instructors said that in a class years ago. One of the pearls I hold on to especially during these extraordinary times.
When I was a first unit CPE student in a large urban hospital I was shocked by the suffering I saw. In a session with my supervisor I asked "why?" Her answer, which I constantly have reminded myself for almost 20years of chaplaincy was "'why' is not a useful question. It leads us nowhere. Go back and do the work. "
Beautiful post.
My son died from his addiction in 2017. People said some of the most profoundly tone deaf things and I had to finally realize it came from a place of fear. That “if it happened to them it could happen to us - and equally terrifying to admit that we do not, in fact, have the power to control the universe.” As I’ve learned more about addiction- that I really wish I’d known sooner - I realize how more appropriate the words “why NOT me.”
Thank you so much Nadia!
I lived a "why me?" experience when my son almost died at 8 yo for a bad peritonitis, it was December and I left my wife with him at the hospital passing the night after a really difficult surgery.
Then he got better and God gave us him back home on Christmas Eve, the real gift, the real love.
When we were in the hospital we met kids with cancer, kids with bad illness waiting for surgeries...
A lot of "why me?" and "why them?".
And we met the guys that come to distract kids and families dressed like clowns.
I accepted that things like that happen and saw how much love comes from God through wonderful surgeons, nurses, parents and kids too.
I don't know why me but we are not alone, never.
My prayers for M.S. and you all.
Love you ❤️
Thanks for this, Stefano.
Thank you for giving me the chance 🙏🏼❤️
LOVE this. Thank you. Praying for M.S., your big sister, you . . . and all of us.
A work colleague of mine once confided in me, in answer to my casual, routine “Good morning! How are you?” greeting, that she had suddenly been diagnosed with colon cancer in an advanced stage! I expressed my earnest shock and concern… “I’m sooo sorry to hear this…”, etc…… and asked how she was feeling, coming into work that morning. What she said amazed me. She said, “My first reaction was ‘Why me??’ But then I thought… ‘Why NOT me?’” I thought to myself, how profound and what a helpful attitude! She was able to start treatments and endure surgery without carrying the additional burden of blame, or anger or the “why” question. I don’t know if I would be able to be so objective if faced with a similar critical situation, but I hope that I would.
And the “Where is God in this? “ question always takes me back to a story by Nobel Peace Prize winner and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel in his book entitled Night. He speaks of the horrific executions of the prisoners by the Nazi officials, and tells of the horror of an incident of the simultaneous hangings of two men and a little boy… when, after the “snap”, the two men were declared instantly dead, but the little boy was too light to cause the rope to bring instant death. He hung there in agony for another 30 minutes before he finally died. One of the prisoners in the crowd, in horror of this unthinkable act to an innocent little boy, cried “Where is God in all of this?” After a pause, a voice came from within…. “God is there… God is in the gallows.” God is always with all of us… and especially in our worst suffering.
Joy T
I'm 73. I contracted polio when I was 3 1/3 months old. My father died a month later (age 33) leaving my mother a widow with 4 children under 9 1/2 in 1951. By age 19, ihad 13 surgeries, 2 broken femurs and 2 shattered hips. In my early 20's I wrote a silly poem about Jesus' cross holding my cross. At 36, I married a widower with 2 children (10 & 12). When the 12 year old was 19, the police knocked on our door on father's day morning telling us he died in a roll over accident. Someone told me "growing old is a privilege denied to many". When I read the first line of your essay, my response was "why not me?" We all ask "why me?" as if we are protected from bad things. Bad things have happened to human beings since the dawn of time. "Why not me?" Is never a question we don't ask. I now ask "what can I learn?, how can I grow!" I give myself time for a pity party then ask my question and get down to the very hard work of living. Life isn't fair. If it was, Jesus wouldn't have needed to come to earth to show us how to live.
What can I learn? and how can I grow are such excellent responses, Marcie!!
Such a great question. What can I learn? I'm going to be using that moving forward. I'm 69.
Thank you. Just thank you for bits of clarity in our odd existence.