In Circles

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In circles she goes, running out the clock of her life. Why me why me why me why me why why why *whining continues endlessly* 

I sent you a canoe, a motorboat and a helicopter, God said to her. And yet you cry to me, ask me why I did not help you stay afloat. What drives you to slap away the hands outreached - what drives you further into your pain?

I sent you parents loving, did I not, God asked her, just the faintest trace of frustration in Her steady voice. What then drives you into the embrace of unlove in circles ad nauseam?

Perhaps God, despite Her infinite wisdom, missed a few key details. Perhaps God failed to realize that what the smallest event, of the same significance as a dust particle could, under the right circumstances, turn into a massive, self-destructive case of PTSD. 

Or perhaps God knew these things and wisely stayed out of the whole mess, and the only voice the woman heard was her own.  

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