MAY 7 — Hey, God. Been a long time since I've seen you. I know, I know you supposedly “see” me but I haven't really “seen” you in a long time.
I'm not a big fan of all your houses, as in all those religious places of worship. They're not where You live. It's more like they're the places where faith goes to die.
They say your name all the time. They even try to tell me what I'm allowed to call You. Isn't that silly? It's not like they get to listen in when we talk. It's not like they know who You really are.
I honestly don't know who or what You're supposed to be. I believe You are there. I don't believe, though, that You'd condone all the stupidity going on down here.
That's the thing about You, Lord. You're not human. So why do we ascribe human traits to you? Why do we think that you hate, love, condemn, judge and feel what we do?
Why do we see the shadow side of our natures reflected in You? Why do we justify cruelty and torture and say that we are doing it in Your name?
Why are some of the most despicable human beings the ones who profess to do everything for You? Why do these people try to bend others into living the way they think?
Right now as I'm writing this, there's likely some girl who's pregnant out of wedlock. She's probably not told her parents and she's scared.
In a more compassionate country, someone would help her figure things out. In this country, if she's the “wrong” religion, she'd be thrown in jail. She'd be ostracised.
And this scared girl leaves her baby in a ditch. In a drain. Tries to flush it down a toilet.
Would having even stricter laws help stop this from happening? I don't think so. Not unless you make a magic pill that kills all sexual desire in anyone not “sanctioned” to have sex.
We're all human. Which makes us fallible. Weak. Prone to making really bad decisions. We steal. We cheat. We lie.
You made us this way, didn't You? And You never got around to explaining why life is so hard for some of us, while some have it easy.
It's a harsh, cruel, unfair world out there. A world where we can't really make it on our own. You'd think we'd want to make it easier for other people, but we're such selfish gits. We really are, God.
I don't know what You want, God. I really don't. Because I don't think I've met You yet. And I don't pretend to know what You're thinking or what You plan for us.
I know that I'd rather figure out how to live than condemn a person to die. I'd rather love than hate. I'd rather be blind to how someone's different from me and instead see how we can get along.
I want to do good. I want to be good. I hope so much that when I do see You, at the end of all things, that You'll know that. That I tried so hard to just be of some use to at least one person, while I'm still here.
And I'm sorry, God. Maybe I'm not doing what I should do or living for You. I'm living for other people, and I hope that's OK. I hope that's what You want of me, and I hope that this hard, sad life we're living is worth it in the end.
I don't know if You'll understand. I hope You do. And I hope, in the end, that's enough.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
