Dear God, WTH?
An honest, anxious, angry, grieving prayer
Dear God,
I’m not sure where to start here.
Originally, I was going to try easing into this with some small talk, but then I realized with You being God n' all, well… that's probably not the best idea. So, I'm just going to come right out and ask it: exactly what the hell is going on here?
I mean, I don't know if You've been watching lately or not, but things have gone completely sideways down here—like jacked-up beyond words or measurement; I mean, a thorough and complete cosmic clusterf*ck... (Sorry.)
The heaviness is so oppressive right now, the darkness so thick, and lately hope and light are tough to come by. No matter which direction I turn toward, I see people who are hurting and hurting each other and to be honest, it's getting the best of me. Though I'm putting on the bravest face I have and doing the work as well as I can, I'm afraid I'm losing my religion.
I'm not sure who to be angry at right now: You, me, the American Church, my Conservative Christian neighbors. To tell you the truth, it feels like we're all dropping the ball here.
God, shouldn't things be better by now?
Shouldn't we have figured out how to live here without killing one another at this point?
Millions of years on the planet and we're still incapable of loving through our differences.
Isn't that what You're supposed to be helping us with?
Isn't this the point of believing at all?
If faith isn't changing us, is it even worth having?
It’s been two thousand years since Jesus walked the planet and honestly, it seems like a sizable portion of his followers totally lost the plot and their minds during that time. When I survey my timeline or peruse the news, a massive number of Christians aren’t just failing to love their neighbors—they’re harassing, hounding, and eradicating them.
I've read all the Scriptures, and I know the program and party line. I know I'm supposed to pray without ceasing and to believe I can endure all things and to trust that Your ways are higher than our ways—but seriously this planet… and specifically, this nation is a mess of Biblical proportions. I don't think I'm the only one whose belief is hanging by the thinnest of threads right now, waiting for You to show up and do what we can't seem to do—save us from ourselves.
I can imagine how terrible this all sounds, coming from a former pastor and supposed communicator of spiritual things. I'm supposed to feel differently about all of this, and I've been trying like hell to pray my way through this but I think I've finally run out of prayers. Or maybe I've started to feel like I'm just talking to myself; like You're not there at all or that You're there and not helping. (Frankly, either of these options is a pretty dreadful proposition.)
The bottom line here, God, is that I'm grieving.
I'm grieving the way we treat one another here. I'm grieving the fact that we have everything we need—and we're still at each other's throats. I'm grieving how little kindness seems to be accomplishing, how love is apparently failing to win. I'm mourning the constant waste of life and wondering why it has to be this way. And, I'm grieving how much of my faith feels like it is slipping through my hands as I watch it all happening.
I’ve learned well from the Church how to rationalize away all this horror. I know the default Sunday School answers of Sin and the Fall and the Devil, and of all creation groaning as it waits for You to make everything right—but honestly these don't bring me any peace right now. They all seem like Band-Aid fixes over a broken-open chest cavity.
Right now I just want people to remember how to be decent human beings.
I just want goodness to win the freakin' day.
I want to see a sliver of the beautiful world and the abundant life I’ve been told You have to offer, one I have spent years promising others if they just believe.
I want to believe that faith makes a difference, but as I look around I'm ashamed to say that right now I'm just not sure anymore.
So yeah, this is a pretty lousy prayer but it's all I have right now. The good thing is if You’re God, then I know you can handle my doubts and questions and existential crisis. They say You fed thousands of people with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish, so maybe You'll do something miraculous with these meager words, if not in me then in someone else.
Maybe with the smallest mustard seed of faith still left in me You'll cause something redemptive to grow.
And as another struggling father in the Scriptures paradoxically prayed:
"I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief."
Amen.
To those of you who are people of faith, is this a prayer you can identify with? How do you filter these days through the lens of your spiritual beliefs? Let me know in the comments.
If the scriptures teach us anything, it is that grieving is a part of faith. (Welcome to Lent.)
But from that comes humility. And from that comes appreciating the small victories.
This is my experience:
It was around 2003, 2004… I was still smarting from a divorce, so I took a trip to New York. It was also late July, so I don’t have to tell you what the subways felt like… or smelled like.
I boarded a car for the ride to Brooklyn, and noticed a woman, clearly a Muslim, in a full niqab (I had to look it up): veiled from head to toe, just a slit for her eyes. About ten feet away from her was a group of teenage boys.
Now, it was noisy, but I could pick a few things they started saying at her: made-up Arabic sounding gibberish, and laughter (this was only a few years after 9/11). They never approached her.
To me, it was “regrettable”, and easy to pass off as just another bunch of boys being a55holes—no reason for me, or anybody else, to get involved.
But then a young woman with an NYU bag stood up and walked over to the Muslim.
I didn’t hear the dialogue, but this is what I saw:
She approached, stopped, and said something. The niqab woman quickly nodded. NYU sat next to her, and spoke to her… niqab woman listening intently. Niqab then nodded again, closed her eyes, and the two held hands. NYU bowed her head.
They were praying.
The teens had gone silent, except for a few giggles.
I had to get off at the next stop, but that image of those two women in prayer has stayed with me, and informed me, ever since:
Forget head-on, single combat. Instead, simply stand with the afflicted. Bullies are, by definition, loners, and therefore cannot face a group.
One victim, plus one who cares, equals courage. And small victories will add up.
Blessings
The grief that smothers me comes from the unfathomable level of suffering in the world caused by my once beloved country. The grief comes from the loss of our humanity. It is indeed suffocating.