My GOD

Dear GOD,

Writing a letter to you is my meditation. So bear with me as I go through the confusions that are making me wake up at 1 in the morning and talk to you.

I recently came across a devout Christian who somehow ruffled my somewhat sanity boat to its edge of disaster. My beliefs about why you are GOD and I your sinful daughter came to a clash. See knowing YOU would be there at the end of every dark day was what kept me going through those awful but ever so frequent days. I took comfort in our little safety haven where my fragile heart was healing (even though to the rest of the world I was Miss. Happy-Daisy) and all my insecurities about my career seemed minute.

But somehow, somewhere, someone who “knew” YOU better told me you don’t operate like my childish brain thinks YOU do. My heart sank and still is caught in disarray for Christmas day isn’t the day to tell a girl Santa isn’t real. I am shaking like a junkie in need of a rush because all I wanted to know was, all this time when I believed in YOU and jumped off a hill and got a broken wrist happened in your presence.

Someone also told me to listen to myself and I tried that as if maybe all the listening I did all these years was from a different persona. That horrified me and still does. That shook the ground I built to its core for I felt invaded; like my identity was stolen. I wondered if these same thoughts were from ‘me’. And this was when I needed YOU, GOD! I needed MY GOD!

I walked or most appropriately dragged my feet, so slowly that day and wondered if anything was real, if all the things I attached my “being”ness was real. I prayed; not knowing if YOU could hear me. I wanted to silently exhale myself out of existence. The idea of insanity was closer than ever. I needed my constant and that was my GOD.

It is hell on earth and is death to live without the serenity of your presence. I called my friend who felt the chaos in my voice and he tried to calm me down even though, I, at the time couldn’t utter what happened to me. Someone robbed me of my GOD is what I wanted to say to him but it seemed so childish.

Everything seemed futile but my friend gave me a different view, a more hopeful view than the grim future that was engulfing me. His words weren’t the antidote perse; but the mere idea that someone out there knew of my disentanglement. Maybe it was YOU, GOD. Maybe my disturbance was felt in the epicenter of cosmos. I still want to believe that YOU are here.

I don’t want to judge the someone who “knew” YOU better because I understand truth is relative. But I don’t want a tornado when I am already hanging by a thread.

So GOD, just stay the same….