Mama Fiona Confession

"The doctors say he may never walk again," Fiona continued, her breath hitching. "They say he may never speak clearly. And everyone… everyone comes to my door. They bring casseroles. They tell me, 'Mama Fiona, you are a saint. You are so strong. God only gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.'"

by Fiona Williams: A character-driven, contemplative read focused on fractured relationships. mama fiona confession

Her voice rose, not in volume, but in intensity, vibrating with a raw pain she had swallowed for months. "I am angry at Daniel for being foolish. I am angry at the world for being cruel. But mostly, Father, I am angry at Him." "The doctors say he may never walk again,"

Fiona sat back. She looked at the rosary in her hand. It didn't look like a tool of bargaining anymore. It looked like a simple, twisted string of beads. A comfort, perhaps, rather than a contract. They bring casseroles

"Faith isn't the bargaining chip you thought it was. It isn't an insurance policy. It’s... it’s the rope you hold onto when the ground falls away." He paused. "You are angry. You feel betrayed. That is not a sin. That is grief. Even Jesus asked, 'Why have you forsaken me?'"