What does God really do?

I was baptised when I was an infant, nothing to do with religion, more to do with society. At school I went to confirmation classes, totally oblivious about what was being confirmed, by whom, to whom. All I knew was, at 13, we got free wine and skived off from prep.

I then spent 20 years married to an RE teacher, brought my children up as Christians and went to church at least monthly. During most of this time I had an element of confusion. God who? What about Darwin, Muslims, Cot Death? I never really gave it too much thought. To me, Man and Boy, God was God. He spurred jokes, caused wars and generally demanded money.

When we lost a son, still-born, a priest came and comforted us. He didn’t really take away any pain. He couldn’t, that was God’s job. God didn’t really help either.

The very same God let my fabulous brother-in-law die, he and the NHS. Aged 51. I asked him why, I reckoned I was entitled to do that? A 22 year old priest tried to help, but couldn’t.

So today, when my only sister, my strong healthy steadfast rock of a beautiful sister gets struck down, for no apparent reason, should I call God again?

As I sit on this bleak night, for hours watching her heart beat in green peaks on a screen, should I pray? Should I ask for something from this God who has given me some free wine and yet let me down so badly before? I will ask him, I have to. For the only person in the world I would exchange my life for, would die for, is my sis. If you can do it, I say, then do it now. I don’t really have a subscription, no real faith, just hope.

I know about hope and I believe in the power of belief too. “I think, therefore I am”, that is philosophy. “My god is better than your god, and if you say different I will kill you for it”, that is religion.

If she, my big lovely sister, comes though this should I thank God? Become a believer, get down on my knees? I do believe she will get through it. Medical magic and her formidable strength will underpin that. Is that down to God too?

If she dosent, which she will, but if she doesn’t, can I tell God, the Almighty, that he fucked up yet again. The priest, now 23, will tell me that God gave her a good life. Bollocks, she is fifty fucking one, that’s all. And she he already took her husband and soul-mate. He may say that God moves in mysterious ways. You can say that again, he sure got me baffled and I aint stupid. I can understand rules of most things, even back-gammon. So, this God fucker, isn’t it time he showed up now? Showed his hand? Come on Man, Ace are trumps and you hold all the cards.

I gave up on Santa and the tooth fairy a long time ago, and you I never knew. But help me now and I will find out what you really do all day. Because you or nobody else has the right to take my sister from me. Bring her back. Intact. OK? And then I will restore some faith and, when I have to, I will pay.