What on in heavens name are you doing?

For many months now, I have been sitting alone in a corner trying to figure out what the hell happened to my life. Finding myself hundreds of miles away from the destruction of my home with half of my children missing in action has jolted me into a near stupor. How in the world did I get HERE? This is not what I had planned at all. I don't recognize the face that peers at me from the mirror. I'm not sure who it is and I don't think I trust her at all.

With everything I've ever believed in, stood for, counted on and loved yanked as if they were weeds from my soul, I am near mad with some sort of compulsion to find what I lost. There are no ruins for me to dig through, there are no people to ask and the God that I lived for was either dead, pissed off or nonexistent.

I think I'm lost.

How long have I been the one lost? I thought after the divorce that perhaps God had given me a second chance. I thought I was finally given the wings to fly.

We have all heard that where God closes one door, He opens a window. Always optimistic, I spread my wings in faith and took a leap.

I flew smack into a pane of glass of the only window I saw.

With the stars still circling around my head I am having a hard time surveying the damage. Suddenly it looks much worse than I thought and absolutely nothing is familiar.

I think I might be suffering some strange sort of emotional amnesia. Where are the rest of my kids? I have three that I realize I pulled from the wreckage, but who am I and who the hell is in charge? No, no, no, I demand a refund. This is not what I signed up for. I don't know what went wrong or who's responsible for this mess but I don't want it. No way. Take it, no backsies.

Yet here I am. Whoever I am. And here they are. Three young people whom I understand are my children from another life.

I check the calender. It's May. I see that no one is going to pop out and yell "April Fools!" and lead me back in time. I can't go back but I can't go forward. I'm stuck. I am frozen solid like Lot's wife when she looked back at the destrution of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Breathe. I feel myself breathing in and out but the air smells strange. Move, Donna. I force myself to move but don't have the strength to go far.

I sit. I sit in this one place and I give into the compulsion to dig. What in the world am I digging for? Looking for remains? Fossils? Trying to get to China? Maybe I'm looking for all three, I don't know. I want to go home. The harsh reality that home is really wherever I hang my hat startles me.

Home is where Mom is. A magnet with those words hung centrally on my refrigerator for years. When I think about of my older children who are still wandering around in the darkness, these are the words I try to force those words into the atmosphere just like I was God Almighty hovering over the formless and void earth. Let there be light. Home is where Mom is.

I want my mommy. Please, Mister. Will you please take back home? I'm very, very lost. I'm scared out of my mind and I'm so terribly cold. Help me.

I pinch myself. I'm awake. It's cold in here. It's dark. Where's God?