Dear Lord.
It’s me.
I’m back.
Right, I know, kidding you, yes?
As if you do not know me before my moments of realization.
I laugh out loud God.
I have doubted you, I have doubted you and doubted you.
I doubt you today.
Yet, I always come back to where I think you are, my second voice, my second skin, myself outside of knowing.
I look around Lord, I don’t know what I am seeing.
I don’t know what I am doing.
I watch the news and I cry and I don’t know how to stop.
There are many that would say, buck up kiddo. Get on with it. Maybe I have walked in shoes I don’t wish upon others. Maybe I don’t know how I wound up in such shoes only ever wanting to make others happy, to be a law abiding American.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Here I am.
There you are.
It’s temporal.
It’s me the girl child climbing the highest tree, not sure how to get down, but unwilling to let the neighborhood boys beat me at it. Above the kitchen window of my home, establishing, hey ma, here I am.
Dear God,
I ask for you everyday, every morning upon waking. I see the news headlines of you in the sky, is there a media conglomerate? I see the Virgin Mary, not so Virgin, spread against the sky. I see the celebration of life, tribulation, I see the jokes in the sky. The Celestial Jibjab on-sky.
I see you.
I feel you.
I know.
So what?
Now what?
