When does test of faith turn into torture? How much does one have to go through to prove their loyalty and love to God? Every time a challenge came his way (for that's how he saw all the bad things in his life...as a challenge) he told himself that it was a test of faith. Faith means nothing if it isn't tested...and if you don't prove it.
In the bible, Job had been tested. He was tortured and still his faith never wavered. But he was blessed BEFORE his trials. He had been loyal to God and had seen what his loyalty had gotten him. He had never been blessed. Not in the way that could constitute never ending faith in his challenges.
He remembered the first time clear as day. The hand coming through the air and stinging sharply against his skin. Most of the rest of that encounter was left blank in his mind, but he remembered praying. Telling God that he was accepting this test and he would pass it. And he did.
He still believed wholly in God after that. He also believed the second, third, fourth, and all times after that. He had lost count of how many.
There were other challenges, of course. Dealing with his mother. Dealing with his friends. He didn't really have friends. He was such a private person that he kept everyone at arms length, without them realizing it. Several people called themselves his friend, but none of them were. None saw beneath the hardened shell he had created very early in life.
Throughout his life, his faith never failed. He loved God's tests as much as he hated them. But each time he came out victorious. Each test got harder and more painful. He had moments, of course, as all do. Fleeting moments where he wondered where God had gone. Wondered if He had left him for good. But then he would feel that feeling. Deep in his chest, deep in his heart, and know that God was still there for him.
And then, the unthinkable happened. Fifteen years old, alone in a park and he was attacked. Brutally raped. And his memory failed him then. He went home, showered and went to sleep. When he woke up, he didn't remember that it had happened.
Life got worse, still. Job ran ever through his head as each trial was dealt. And then, five years later, five years later he remembered. And images came tumbling through his head of being attacked. Memories so vivid he could smell the grass, and the summer, and the sweat and the blood. And he was horrified.
So he prayed, as he always did. And suddenly, he couldn't feel God anymore. Had God abandoned him? He felt completely and utterly alone. And his faith not only wavered, but toppled, fell and crashed into a million pieces. He achieved what he had been doing with people his whole life - he was alone.
And it hurt. It hurt more than a thousand knives or a thousand beatings. It hurt more than being raped alone, young and scared in a park. It was a void that couldn't be filled. It was darkness. So instead of allowing himself to feel that, he left God. Claimed that God didn't exist. That God's purpose in life wasn't to torture people...especially those who had believed their whole lives without question. Those who had suffered plenty of tests of faiths and had come out on top every time. Those who had plenty of time to say that God doesn't exist or to curse His existence before this. It couldn't happen...so it didn't. God didn't exist.
And he claimed that to himself, to his friends, to his family, to anyone who would listen. But some days, some days it was too much. And his mind wandered to a time when God had been in his life. And how even though he hurt, the pain wasn't as bad. So he would pray and pray and pray. And that hole still stayed. Never again that feeling deep in his chest, deep in his heart, knowing God was there for him. No feeling, no God. But he never truly stopped believing. Because then, where would he be?
Alone, only when he is alone, can he pray. Can he lay in his room, holding onto his mutilated thigh, thinking about beatings from his father, and being raped in a park, can he sob and pray and hope that maybe today, God will return to him. But so far, it hasn't happened.