that’s a question that i haven’t asked in a long time. i do sigh and think about things sometimes, and in the quiet of my room, i occasionally have conversations with god. but it’s been long time since i actually wondered, “where are you, god?”
i mean, i’ve believed since forever. i was brought up with jesus in my life. and no, i can’t deny that i’m a lazy christian. i don’t give offerings all the time, and i swear and all… but i do repent, and i do believe, and i always thought that was all that mattered.
i’d always had, more-or-less, a smooth-sailing life, until i was 18. it’s been 6 long years now, but the memories are still alive, and the wound in my heart is still raw and fresh.
one of my dogs were dog-napped. i searched for her everyday for hours, putting up signs and calling every shelter or vet i knew. a week after she disappeared, some vet called. apparently, someone claimed they saw
misty getting knocked by a taxi, and had dropped her off at the vet’s. but it was in a place so far from our house. and my baby was so badly injured. her pelvic bone and one of her hind legs had broken, and the internal bleeding was so bad, her entire body had turned purple. the doctor said it didn’t look at all
like a car had knocked her, cos there weren’t any external injuries at all, not a scratch. rather, she might have been abused. the same doctor then told me she’d be ok.
luckily i had the sense to take her somewhere else, where the vet took one look and immediately hospitalised her. she couldn’t stand, let alone walk. and she was in such pain, she couldn’t eat. we would send her in for drips each day, and bring her home at night.
for the first time i had to buy a dog muzzle. misty had never bitten me before, but just moving her slightly was painful, and she would snap. there were times when i changed her bedding, that i wouldn’t put on the muzzle, and just let her bite me instead, so that i could also feel her pain.
i cried so much that week. each time i looked at her, each time i saw her wince. i would hold her for hours, saying ‘misty, i’m so sorry’. countless times, i knelt and put my head to the ground and i begged god to please heal her
please heal misty, please heal my baby.
shadow (misty’s sister of the same litter), would sit in the corner of the room, and cry too.
i really begged god back then. but i never once thought that misty would die. i just believed. i even took misty to church and everyone prayed for her. and i knew god would not let her go like that, not suffering, not dying in pain.
there were these songs, that i would sing out to god, basically asking him for help.
‘heal me o lord, and i will be healed.
save me, and i will be saved.
heal me o lord. and i will be healed.
for you are the one, i pray, you are the one i pray.’
‘god will make a way, where there seems to be no way.
he works in ways we cannot see, he will make a way for me.
he will be my guide, hold me closely to his side.
with love and strength for each new day,
he will make a way, he will make a way.’
all my life i had believed, that when you ask, it shall be given, and if you prayed, that the doors will be opened to you.
a week after misty came back home, she died.
i think up until her death, i refused to believe the possibility, that she might die, even though the vet told us to be prepared. the toxins in her body from the fractures and bruises, were too much for her poor liver and kidneys to bear, and her internal organs had failed her.
i couldn’t stop crying. not for over a year.
i hated myself for not bringing her for more walks. i hated myself for not loving her more. i hated myself for not being able to do anything to ease the pain. i hated myself for believing, that she might survive, and that belief made me ignore the option of putting her to sleep, the option of letting her go. i hated myself for believing in god, that he will heal her, and give her back to me.
and in the end my faith was in vain.
the next few years of my life was hell.
there were many reasons that i can’t type here, but my family had a lot of arguments, and day and night we were all shouting and screaming at one another. i was so angry and hurt, and each day i cried out to god, begging him to stop all the pain.
but the quarrels went on. for 3 years, my prayers, my whole family’s prayers, went unheard. there was so much hurt and anger at home. i love my family, i love my parents, i love my sister, and i love my brother, and i would do anything for them, and they for me.
but things happened the way they did, and we just couldn’t stop getting into screaming fights. my uncle and the business had a lot to do with it, and it was all his fault, and everyday i wished he would die.
i left home for japan at 20.
although i have to admit that a large part of the reason for my coming to japan was because of smap, the bigger part of it was that i just had to get away from home.
when i first got here, i couldn’t speak the language, and i had no friends. i can’t explain to you the loneliness. it was my first time living overseas, and my first time living alone. that hit me really hard, but i guess being alone at that point of my life, was a lot better than having to deal with the pain at home.
many years have passed since then, and i have in some ways reconciled with god. i still ask him why, and i still don’t know why, but somewhere deep inside of me, i still do believe.
the email from parsons had really shocked me. i think the shock was so bad, i went past the crying stage,
straight into ‘numb’. i had been tense all day, and because of all my asthma and breathing problems, i’ve been feeling breathless too. i think writing about misty, was almost a good thing. for more than a year now, i had been trying to block that memory away. but thinking about misty today, has released a whole lot of pent-up tension and emotions, and i needed to really cry.
the whole day, i just stared at the tv, and tried to sleep most of it away. i watched smap’s concert on dvd. ever since misty had died, and my family went into war or something, they have been the ones to always make me laugh, and always lift my spirits.
so i did just that, i watched some smap.
i was supposed to go to my friend’s party, but i told her about the email and said i’m sorry i’m just not interested in going to a party and mingling with new people, and pretending to be happy when i’m not.
she told me to take it easy, then she said that it was actually going to be a surprise party for me, and she had even ordered a cake.
i guess a huge part of me felt really guilty. i was thankful, really, but i just couldn’t go.
so here i am at 24, sitting alone in the dark. it’s been a bad week, and not a very happy birthday, in fact, it might not be a very happy year.
but you know, i’ve been through worse times. i can handle this.
i’ll stand up again on my own two feet. i can do that on my own.
but, dear god, you’ve been silent in my life, the last 6 years. and each time i reached out for you, you weren’t there.
i need to know if you are still there. i need to know if i can still count on you, i need to know if i can still believe.
because trying, and giving my best shot, didn’t make it for for me this time.
and if believing would only make me fall harder, then i think my flicker of hope might just blow out.