I thought I was God. I can do anything. I helped my parents. My wife's parents. My sisters. My children have all they need. My wife is happy. There are so many people we have met in our travels that I have been able to help. A sweet Colombian girl that had so many issues. She is happily married to the man of her dreams. A Romanian friend has a husband and a dear child. Our Macedonian friends are expecting a child. Another Romanian friend has her small business and has been described by one of her peers as the 'energizer bunny' of the Romanian north. She has her own bed and breakfast and her tour agency. And I am so proud of my staff in Albania. But I couldn't keep my Coco safe. She was stolen. I don't know where she is. I am so tired of being God. I am so small. If there is a God, how does He live with himself? There is so much suffering. God can stop it. Why doesn't He? I am nothing. It must be so hard to be God.
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