Curse of Job

I refuse to profane the name of God. I refuse to believe that God does not have a plan for my life, for every waking moment of my life. I refuse to hate God, and I refuse to lash out at him, and express my shock and my anger. I refuse to believe that God is not the greatest source of grace and mercy and beauty in my life.

I can, however, begin to wonder what possible message God could be trying to send me, if any, by taking my grandfather, my great-grandmother, and now my dog, all in the course of less than five months.

Without warning, today, while I was twenty miles away, on top of a hill with the Marines while they practiced land navigation, the dog had a heart attack. less than an hour later, before I was able to even consider getting back, she was dead. No warning. She was running around and dog-smiling like usual when I left her.

I know I don't swear much on here, but... Fucking A.