Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Remember Thursday Night?

Dear God,

You took the only thing that meant anything to me. How could you? I asked for one thing in this life and still you stole it away while knowing my need. I’m done. I am putting my coat on the hangar, shoes in the closet, and refusing to walk another step. Why me? Was it something I did? Something I said?

My heart was broken. Not by a friend, brother, or lover, but by the one who said he’d love me always. By the one who said he’d be there through the good AND the bad days. What happened that you changed your ways? You were there when I laughed and when I cried. You were there when I told the truth and when I boldly lied. Were you offended by my music? Angered by my TV shows? Should I go to church more? Maybe change my clothes?

I really don’t know, and to be honest I don’t really care. I’ve tried to be fair, to be just, to be kind -but God- you took the only thing that was mine. I basically gave you it all, my entire life. I kept something small, a tiny comfort at night. Was that really so wrong? Are you that hung up on rules? Isn’t that why you corrected those Pharisees, the very men you called fools?

I can’t do this anymore. I cannot play your games. Remember Thursday night when I spoke to you on the floor? That’s the last time I’ll call your name. Things will never be the same. My friends try to comfort me, they say that no one is really to blame; but we both know better than that, for you possess all power. Every day there are thousands of deaths, hundreds every hour. If not your fault then whose? What, the people who sinned? The people born into a reality that they didn’t even choose?

You said that in this life there are two masters, you and that other dude. Well, God, I’ve weighed the pros and cons. Since you lie too, he wins...and you lose.

Dear Son,

I took nothing from you. I did everything that I could do. I asked one thing, your love, but you politely refused. I’m here. I am your God. I may sit on a throne, but I’d love to walk with you. There is nothing you could do, nothing you could say, I’ll be there for you whatever path you take.

My heart is breaking. It’s a ceaseless aching. I love you not as a friend, brother, or lover, but with agape, a love like no other. It was unrequited, given but never returned. Can you imagine how it feels to love endlessly and perfectly and yet still be spurned? We have laughed and we have cried, we have celebrated and mourned, -but Son- you’ve held back.

I watched you fill your life with poison, cloud your own mind with deceit. You were thirsty and hungry, but you only swallowed lies. What need could they possibly meet? I don’t want you to change, and religion is never the answer. It is just a tool that I use, but it can consume like a cancer.

I don’t care for the law, it’s the Spirit behind it. Weren’t you listening when my other son said he was nothing without love? It’s not about the rules, for they could never be enough. You can’t just wear them like a glove. Let me be your all, your tiny comfort at night. When you are alone in the dark forest, let me be your lantern light.

Remember Thursday night when I spoke to you on the floor? When you came to me broken, aching for something more? You called on my name, filed your complaint, acted as if I was to blame. Your brothers and sisters make mistakes along the way, terrible ones, corrupting the lives of millions every week. Thousands every day. As terrible as things seem, if given the option between death and life, we know what most people would choose. That other guy and I don’t compete. There is no win or lose.

It’s hard to hear, but I speak nothing other than the truth. I speak these things for the good of you, one diamond among six billion jewels. I know you’re not perfect, all-knowing, or wise. Though you’re covered in yesterday’s filth, battered, and bruised, I see you daily with a fresh pair of eyes. You are my son: what else could I do?

Remember Thursday night?

I write to God occasionally, and this is a "correspondence" I had with Him quite some time ago. He speaks to me by giving me words to write A LOT, but rarely is it a "direct" response like this.

I do remember Thursday night, God. I definitely do.

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