It isn't going well.
Yesterday afternoon our puppy "Oopsie" was hit by a car at the end of our driveway. She was killed.
Our dogs are part of our family. We are that absolutely ridiculous family who treats their fur babies like actual babies. Oopsie was named Oopsie because we decided we couldn't take in any more dogs, we already had 4 - she became our 5th after we nursed her back to health & our youngest daughter became incredibly attached.
About 6 months ago, Oopsie disappeared for about a week...turns out another family had her - but we had literally thousands of people all over our town looking for her.Sharing her lost puppy poster, asking strangers to help us bring her home. Even now people ask us about Oopsie when they see us.
We've spent well over $1,000 in vet bills for all of her various ailments. She was definitely a family project and she was an amazing little addition to our family. Oopsie was obsessed with our youngest daughter and followed her around the house. They were so in love with each other.
I will never forget the look on her face when we had to tell her about her puppy yesterday.
So I can't help but wonder why...why, on a day that I was praying and asking God for strength...for proof of his presence in my life...trusting him...turning my problems over to him....why?
I am pissed.
I didn't drink last night, although I really wanted to. I probably will drink tonight. I'm putting this work in and trying to get better...and as ridiculous as it might sound I feel like my prayers were laughed at and thrown back in my face.
I know it isn't right to be angry with God. I know it isn't right to use this heartache as an excuse to throw in the towel for the night. I know that the disease is telling me it is and I need to be stronger than that. I know I'm heartbroken and having a few drinks wont make it better. I know I can have just as much fun not drinking and Ill feel great about myself. I know all of that.
But right now...I really don't care.
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