Conversations with God

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I know we haven’t talked much lately. I’ve been wrapped up in keeping busy, for appearances’ sake.

I’m not even sure I believe in you. You exist, but my faith or lack thereof is a completely separate issue.

But unlike people, when I talk, you don’t talk back. You listen.

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I get mad at you for no reason. Well, not exactly no reason. I mean, this world here is a pretty fucked-up planet.

Not even the planet, the subset of human beings who go out of their way to make others miserable. Persecution, aggression, apathy, pettiness, intolerance, madness. And often, in your name.

(Yeah, I’d be upset, too, if people were like, “Wade said I could sacrifice children, so there.”)

Don’t get me wrong. Many of us have it pretty good down here. We live long lives. We can choose to help others. We can be happy all on our own, even if some still prefer the kind that comes in pill form.

I like a lot of your followers. You need all the good PR you can get, given the self-described chosen messengers getting in the way.

As you know, I haven’t reconciled my big beliefs. The political and social beliefs are easy, almost logical and comprehensible. People may not agree, but they and I know where I stand. Most of the time.

But with you, it’s complicated, damn complicated. It’s a mess. Even religious scholars would agree that the teachings in the Bible are contradictory. How can we mere mortals sort out the divine plan when the blueprint isn’t in feet and inches but parables and commandments?

I’m not ignoring you. And I’m not lost. Well, not completely. Morally, I’m OK. That’s like saying “Everyone’s a bad driver but me.”

Too much thinking, not enough trust.

Because my trust in others is stingy, subject to withdrawal at any perceived slight, you can imagine how trust in an almighty God can be challenging and elusive. I don’t scare easily — I’d love to meet you at any time. And I’m not hung up on the whole “Why do you let bad things happen?” scenario.

Things happen. The world keeps turning. It’s up to us to move forward or fall backward.

It is a fractured faith I possess. Hey, I don’t even have perfect faith in myself. It’s each day as it comes around here.

I haven’t seen enough of the world to draw any conclusions. I haven’t journeyed deep enough within to wring out hidden wisdom. I need to see as many of your forms as exist in this earthly plane to know my options.

You are out there. You are all around. You are in my head.

Are you in my heart? My soul? Are you the nagging doubt that keeps me questioning all? Or are you the calming grip that steadies my wavering conscience in the dead of night?

I know enough to know I know nothing. It is the edge of greater understanding that compels me and cuts me.

We’ll talk again. Or better, I’ll talk and you’ll listen. I can’t shut up and listen — I fear the silence.

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