So the rabbi says to me that she thinks bad things are "random." (The philosophy of Woody Allen and his very expensive "shrink.") But what do I think?
I say they happen to me because I am bad. It's not that G-d hates me, but I am messing up and I need to learn.
She resists this explanation. I find her blessing comforting though, enough that it elicits heaving sobs.
What is the point of it all? The other day we had a conversation at home. I said the same thing and my husband goes, "No preaching now. Please!"
I get it. I just can't focus on anything other than why.
Sometimes I get the answer in a dream. Other times it comes to me naturally. Most of the time it has to do with a character flaw, with something lousy and stubborn and painful in myself that needs work.
It hurts all the time to face it but it feels better when you grieve the self you wanted to be, but somehow failed at. And come out the other side.
* All opinions my own.