I didn't move.
All I thought was, "Lord, why is this happening?"
I was hiking up Mount Shasta in Northern California with a bunch of friends from college.
It was a beautiful morning of bright sunshine.
We watched a rock come racing down the mountain not very far from where we were hiking.
Then another rock.
Then a bunch of rocks.
My buddy and I found the base of a small cliff as rocks whizzed over our heads.
Then we heard someone from our group cry out, "God, why are you doing this to me. God, help me."
We looked around the edge of our cliff and saw our friend had been hit in the shin by one of the rocks. He was bent over in the middle of the path of the flying rocks.
"Get over here," I screamed to him.
Fortunately the rocks stopped coming down for he hardly moved.
Disaster strikes and the first thing we do is cry out, "God why are you doing this to me?"