Recently I asked a friend if he thought I had changed since the events that transpired at the end of last year. He replied that in his opinion, I had not.
But that made me think. Why haven’t I changed? Shouldn’t something of this magnitude change a person? Why didn’t it change me?
The fact that I’m still the same person does not feel comforting, but makes me feel so detached. I should be sadder. I should be more effected. Any normal person would.
Then, if in fact I haven’t changed, why did it happen at all. I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason and that God has a plan for all of us. I still do. But if what happened was all part of God’s master plan for me, then I don’t understand why I’m not any different.
It couldn’t be punishment, right? I’m a generally good person by worldly standards. I go to school and get good grades. I don’t steal or cheat. I try to treat people courteously. I go to church. I pray every night before bed. I don’t think I’ve done anything so wrong as to warrant a punishment like this, so it just has to be something else.
Maybe some day it will all be clear to me, but for right now I don’t know why I had to endure such hardship to come out the same exact person. It doesn’t seem fair.
