I protested to God. I was angry with him. I felt he was unfair to my family. I did not want to go to church, and I did not pray anymore. I did not want to communicate with the ‘evil’ God. Then one day I found an image of a cross torn in two on the floor in our home. I picked up the pieces and taped it back together. I did not know who tore it up and left it scattered there. However, the event that day changed everything. I cried, staring at the scarred image of the broken cross. I remembered the suffering of Jesus. It was like I was seeing his sorrow and pain right in front of me. Tears fell from my eyes. I spoke to Jesus with all my heart and asked to pass through my suffering just as he passed through his death on the cross. He answered me. After that, my whole life was awakened, a clear mind returned, and I felt guided to rise from adversity. My husband and I survived the entire struggle with God’s compassion, a compassion that I cannot explain.