My Crisis of Faith

My crisis of faith happened about three years ago when my cousin Tony died. Other people of my family had died before him but none hit me as much as his. It was because I grew up with him. He was only eighteen when he passed away. I was thirteen. I still remember the night he left and never came back. He was at home with his girlfriend Teresa. Some of my cousins and I were playing Uno outside his house when someone came looking for him. The guy was short. He didn't have a shirt on and he had many tattoos. He scared me. He went into my cousin's house and came out with my cousin. I asked my cousin where he was going and he said he was just going to the store. He asked one of my other cousins, his brother, if he wanted to go too. My cousin said yes but he saw that his girlfriend made an angry face to his answer so he stayed. If he had gone then there would've been two deaths in our family. Hours passed and my cousin still hadn't come home. Everyone was worried. It seemed like his girlfriend didn't even care. It was around nine o'clock when my parents said it was time to go home. Some of my cousins and Teresa were outside. Teresa was talking on the phone saying something about a car accident and a hospital. When I heard that I had a really bad feeling. I couldn't sleep. I was so worried. I really had no idea what she was talking about but I had a strong feeling.
The next morning I realized that I had slept but I didn't know how long. I went straight in the shower as soon as I was fully awake. I had only been in the shower for about ten minutes when my mom came in crying telling me to hurry and get out because we needed to go. That hit me. Even though I wasn't sure of what I thought I was scared. I got out very fast and threw my clothes on.
My thoughts were confirmed when we got to my grandma's house. During the ride there nobody talked. I didn't want to ask questions. At my grandma's house everyone was quiet. Everybody was waiting for my grandma to come back from the hospital to tell us what happened. When she came into the house she looked like she was in shock. My mom was sitting on the couch and my grandma sat down next to her and started crying. My mom hugged her and then my grandma said, "Se nos fue nuestro nino Rosa. Nos dejo nuesro nino. Se fue. Se fue." Which means our boy left Rosa. He left us. He left. He left. My grandma was yelling that. Everyone had started crying. My cousin Alejandra was right next to me. Tony, my cousin who got in the accident, was her oldest brother. I tried my best to console her though it was kind of hard because I was also crying. That day was the July 3, 2007. 4Th of July will never again be a happy day for my family.
When that happened a question came into my head. "Why didn't God help him. Why did he let him die?" It was horrible. I started questioning my own belief. If God is good then why did he let people die? Why did he let innocent people suffer? We were good people. Why put us through all this pain? If he has so much power then why doesn't he use it to help us? I was and still am very religious but at that time I didn't know what to think. I started thinking "If he is real then why haven't I seen him or heard him or felt his presence. Why, if he knew what pain it would cause us to lose a family member? Why didn't he stop it?" I didn't know what to believe.
When it was time for the ceremony God was not in my head at all until the Father said that all our family had to go up to the altar to say a prayer. I really didn't want to do it. I just didn't have faith in God anymore. The Father said that the prayer would help my cousins spirit. I didn't want to leave my cousins spirit with God. In the end of the discussion with myself I ended up going up to the altar. It wasn't until the Father said the prayer that I felt safe; he said something like, "He is now with God. In a better place where no more harm will come and that one day we would see him again." That made something happen inside me.
After the Father finished his prayer I went back to sit on a bench with my family. I still had tears in my eyes but I now believed that cousin would be fine. Yes he wouldn't be with us anymore but the thought of meeting with him again reassured me. This is what I learned growing up and I do believe it. Others have different beliefs but I know now that I truly believe this. My crisis of faith lasted a while. It was a time when I didn't understand what kind of world we lived in. I didn't know what to feel, how to act, what to say or what to think. After the ceremony I started to think straight. Yes I still cry myself sometimes thinking about my cousin but I know that it had to happen sometime. I still don't understand why it happened so soon. All I know is that God wanted it that way. I haven't had any more crisis. Now I feel more sure of my beliefs. Yes there will be more moments like this one but I learned that after the sadness comes understanding.
As for the guy who took Tony that day, I never saw him again. He was sent to jail. He tried apologizing to our family but no one wanted to talk to him. We never found out what happened the night of the 3rd of July but we knew that it was caused but the guy with all the tattoos. This is one memory that I will never forget.