I stopped asking why my daughter died before every prayer

Dear Delyara, After my daughter died, prayer became an interrogation. Every sentence began with why. Why her? Why then? Why did I pray for recovery if the answer was already no? For years, I could not enter a place of worship without feeling mocked by other people’s certainty. A grief chaplain eventually suggested that I stop trying to resolve the argument and speak only what was true that day. Some days the only prayer was her name. Some days it was anger. Some days nothing. This morning, five years after her death, I sat beneath a tree near the cemetery and noticed I had begun praying without asking why. I said thank you for twenty-two years with her. Then I cried because gratitude once felt like surrendering the accusation. It does not anymore. I still do not understand her death. Spiritual growth has not given me an answer. It has made my unanswered question large enough to live beside love without demanding that one cancel the other.