The fact that I was playing around with something that was evil terrified me as I thought about Satan and how I had almost fallen into his trap. This was enough to cause me to repent and return to my search for God.

I didn’t go to any more churches, but I continued my almost nightly conversations with Him. However, just like before, it was always a one-way conversation and I never got any answers. I was getting very frustrated. If Satan was real then surely God must be real too. But why does He continue to remain quiet? Why doesn’t He answer my questions? Couldn’t He see how sincere I was and how much I wanted to know the truth? I honestly expected Him to answer me, and since He wouldn’t, I found myself getting more and more frustrated and finally, I grew angry at Him again.

I had cried on so many nights, ever since my father had died, and that was going on five years by now. The weight of guilt I felt over that still bore heavily on my shoulders and I couldn’t forgive myself for the awful words I had uttered back then. Oh, how I wish I could take those words back and eat them! I wished I could have died instead of my dad!

I had tried everything I knew of to find God. I had pleaded and begged for answers. I had spent many a night sitting on the lifeguard stand at the beach, pondering over all the questions I had, and looking up at the night sky, I had poured out my heart and soul to God. I had driven clear up to the mountains and climbed up my favorite path to the remote rock where I could sit and view the whole vastness of the desert beyond. And there too, I had poured out my heart and soul to God. I loved being alone up in the mountains with nothing but nature and me. It was the one place where I felt closer to God than anywhere else, and whenever I doubted His existence, all it would take was hiking to my remote spot to leave me with the hope that surely He must be there somewhere.

I had read the Bible over and over again only to find so many contradictory things in it based on what everyone else had told me … that I was tired of being confused. I wanted to know the truth! I wanted answers! What more did He want me to do?

I was about to write Him off forever and concluded that if He didn’t care enough about me, or of fulfilling His promise that if we seek, we shall find … then why should I care about Him? I didn’t know what else to do!

Finally one night in frustration, I grabbed my Bible, went into the double privacy of my bathroom (which was located inside my bedroom), opened the window, and looking up at the night sky, just really laid into it with God. With tears streaming down my face, and my body shaking from my sobs, I confronted Him with everything I had kept locked up inside for so long … my frustrations, my fears, pains, worries, desires … every burden my troubled heart had carried. I let Him know in no uncertain terms, exactly how I felt, exactly what I expected according to the promises He had made in the Bible, and of how incredibly unfair I thought He was!

“Where are you?” I cried out as I looked out the window. “Where are you, God? Do you hear me? I want to know why you never answer! Are you up there? Do you really exist? If you do, then why do you let people go through such agony? Why do you let all the bad things happen? Why don’t you punish all those people who hurt and kill and do wicked things like you used to punish people in the Bible here? Why do you let people suffer and starve in the world? Why don’t you do anything anymore?”

“You used to speak to people back then!” I cried out, thumping my Bible as if He was right there watching. “Why don’t you speak to us anymore? Why did you leave us? You spoke a lot back then and you performed a lot of mighty miracles! And how come you don’t have prophets anymore? You had prophets back then too, who taught people your will. Why don’t you speak to people today like you did back then? Don’t you care about us? Why did you do all of those things for them and not us? It’s not fair, I tell you … it’s not fair!” I sobbed, my heart aching as it had never ached before. If we’re His children too then why are we treated like this … why does He ignore us?

“I have tried everything I know of to find you, to know your teachings and your truths, but how can I know the truth when everything is so confusing? Everyone says something different and even here in the Bible it says one thing in one place and the complete opposite in another place! How can that be truth? It has to be one way or the other. How am I supposed to know? Why don’t you answer me? ANSWER ME!”

I was sobbing and heaving uncontrollably in muffled tones so the people next door couldn’t hear. I was devastated! I felt as if I was in the depths of hell and my soul was racked with eternal torment! I understood what Job meant when he said, “Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.” (Job 7:11) “My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.” (Job 10:1) And David: “In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted.” (Psalms 77:2) “I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.” (Psalm 6:6)

Like David, I could not be comforted because my soul was in such anguish and despair. I reflected back on all the nights when I, like David, had cried myself to sleep to find my pillow literally soaked with my tears in the morning. I hungered for the truth and could not rest until I found it! My soul was racked with eternal torment, knowing that I was partly to blame for the death of my dad, and the burden of guilt and grief that I had been carrying these five years constantly tormented my mind. I wanted peace!

I was inconsolable and just wanted to die! What was the point? My life was worth nothing anyway. It just caused misery for myself, and for everyone else associated with me. Looking out that bathroom window, I continued my big speech (no, I wasn’t finished yet!).

“And why are there so many different churches anyway? I thought you said there was only one church! Then how did all these churches start? Who gave them permission, and if they all have your permission, then why are they all different and why do they do things differently? Which one is YOUR church? All the Christians I know all preach one thing and do another. They don’t LIVE like they’re Christians … they’re all a bunch of hypocrites! They swear and use your name in vain, they do bad things and some of them are pretty mean as well! They may as well not even go to church! Maybe I should just start my own church!” I stopped for a moment to reflect on that last comment. It sounded good, but I realized that if I did that, it would be no different than any of the other churches because they probably did the same thing. Something was missing … somewhere along the line something had gone wrong, but I didn’t know what it was!

I continued, “And what about babies and people who have never heard of you before, like the people in Africa and other tribes in different countries … do they go to hell just because they’ve never even heard of you? It’s not their fault! You said we had to get baptized in order to be saved. How can it be fair if someone never even had the chance? I can’t believe that you would send babies to hell! If that’s the kind of God you are then I want no part of you!”

“Why don’t you speak to us like you did back then? Did you love those people more than you love us? Because if you do then how can you call yourself a fair and just God? That isn’t fair and it isn’t just! If you’re really our Father in Heaven then how could you do that to us? A good father doesn’t ignore his children! Are you even listening to me? Are you up there, do you even exist at all? If you are then answer me! PLEASE ANSWER ME!”

“I was born in the wrong time period … I should have been born back then! They had proof of your existence back then … how could they NOT believe? They heard your voice, they had prophets and they had Jesus himself who performed all those miracles! I don’t understand how they could NOT believe! If I was born back then I would have believed! I WOULD HAVE BELIE-EE-EE-VED!”

“Why don’t you just kill me … I wish I was dead! I wish I could have died instead of my dad! Where is he anyway? What happens when we die? Where do we go … is there really a heaven and hell? Why am I even here? No one understands me! No one believes I can do anything! Everything I want to do, they either tell me I can’t or they laugh or make fun of me. Why did I have to be so ugly? I hate San Diego! I hate my life! And I hate you for not keeping your promises! I’ve lost my two best friends, and my family and I are always fighting … I hate people and I hate this world! I don’t want to be here anymore so why don’t you just let me die? JUST LET ME DIE! TAKE ME! TAKE ME!”

There! I had just told off God. Whether or not He heard me, at that point, I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care about anything! What was the point? I may as well be dead! I really did want to die, at least then, maybe I ‘d be able to see my dad, wherever he may be!