fearfully and wonderfully slayed, part 1

"If I ask you 'what is truth' will you be silent still?
My questions and doubts made a chasm
That I fear you can not fill..."
-Showbread, The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things
 
I met up with God the other day.  He actually let me record our conversation and I have conveniently transcribed it for you.  We had a long talk, or actually I had a lot to say to him.  You might notice he was sparse with the responses, which wasn't surprising.  Below is our exchange.

Me:  What's up, Lord?  I know you're busy not answering prayers and and standing idly by as the world crumbles, yet somehow swooping in and saving certain individuals from damnation to propel the proselytizing of non-believers, but we need to have some tea and a chat.  You've been dodging me for twenty-six years so the very least you can do is spare me a few minutes. 

God:  *irritated, pointing to iPhone*

Me:  Sure, I'll let you finish your call.  Tell Jesus I said hi and that I miss him.

God hangs up after several minutes, looks at me, becomes morose.

Me:  Please, have a seat.  Can I get you a Snuggie?  Nescafe?  Comfortable?  Good.  This is gonna take a while.

God:  *rolls eyes*

Me:  I hate to be negative right from the start so let's get to the good stuff first, shall we?  First of all, I am an incredibly fortunate individual.  I guess you'd prefer the term "blessed".  Sure, we can use your terminology.  I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you played some part in the positive aspects of my life.  I've never starved because my family couldn't afford food.  I've never been beaten by my mother or molested by my father.  I've never been left out in the cold or went without adequate clothing.  I've never had loved ones torn away from me by death or divorce.

My life is easy.

But I am absolutely miserable.   

I know this doesn't make much sense but please hear me out, okay?  As much as you might want to lambast me, I've already beaten myself up about it plenty of times.  I feel guilty and selfish because there's no real reason why I should be so miserable.  Looking at me from an outsider's point of view, I have no reason to be sad or even complain at all.  There are people who struggle twice as much as I do and aren't half as unhappy.  It's not something I can explain.  Believe me, I've tried to figure it out.  It's just those small things I've mentioned before, the small slices of pain life inflicts, the paper cuts that add up to amputation.

It's how I always made excellent grades in high school and college but ended up where I started, working a retail job one step above minimum wage.  It's how I tried to better myself by going to college only to be in worse financial shape than I was when I began.  It's how I chased my dreams and ran straight into a nightmare.  It's about how I battled my body for years, clearing one thing up only to have something else appear to make me hate myself again.

It's how I used to have so much love to give but no one wanted it.  It's about how I tried to reach out to people but never felt appreciated or validated.  It's how I hate myself so much, how when I reach out to you, God, I only find emptiness.

God:

Me:  It's how I can't keep friends.  It's how I always get the crazy customers or the difficult people at work.  It's how there's always someone in my way when I go to the grocery store.  It's how other people are always on their cell phones when I try to talk to them.   It's how I don't feel treasured by anyone.  I am a body, a person to talk to out of convenience. 

It's how I play the victim, how all of this sounds whiny because it is.  Please don't roll your eyes.  I know it all seems so minor compared to hunger or disease but I can't help but to feel the thoughts that stab me in the middle of the night.

It's how I want to die but I'm too chicken to kill myself, how I'm angry at my parents for not being supportive or hugging me enough, how their stoicism has made me a prisoner in my own head.  I'm angry at you, God, for not giving me a break.  I followed your rules and turned away from sin to seek you and you evaded me every step of the way.  I'm angry that now all I have are my sins to soothe me.  I know I sound crazy.  It's partly your fault, you know.  Whether you intentionally did this to me or simply allowed it all to happen, you influenced this crazy. 

It's how everyone else around me is doing well with their great jobs and families and I am alone.  Depressed.  Half-dead.  Don't scoff!  I know I'm not really alone.  I know many people struggle.  I know this.  I know this.  I know.  That doesn't make me feel any better.  And I think I feel so bad because all the stress and bad luck wouldn't even matter if I had someone to commiserate with but I don't and I don't have you, either.  Someone once described true hell as a separation from God.  As far me, this is hell on Earth.  I don't have you here and I fear I won't have you when I die, that I'll just shuffle down that conveyor belt to the eternal incinerator. 

It's how that love I used to have has been dried up, how I don't care about anyone but myself but I don't even like myself that much.   Do you know how maddening that is?  It's like being handcuffed to your worst enemy.  I can't even escape myself and so I am all that I have.

It's how all of my actions have had the opposite of intended consequences.  I loved animals but continually witnessed their abuse and neglect and I eventually had to distance myself from them so as not to feel as much.  I loved to draw but you implanted an insecurity so crippling that I stopped, which consequently stunted my talent.  I used to want to be a people person but you consistently introduced horrific or apathetic individuals into my life and took away all the ones I used to enjoy.

You pulled the old switcheroo on me, embedded me with talents and passions and then ripped them out one at the time throughout my life, or at least allowed it all to happen.  I tried to be a good person and help others but who helped me?  I was a good kid and treated people with respect and made excellent grades and did everything I was supposed to do and now I feel like a loser because I'm working a low end job with no way out.

But that's life, right?  Bad things happen to good people.  And that's just the way it is.  We will never know why because you insist on being cryptic and secretive.   Why can't you just open up a little?

God:

Me:  Really?  Okay.  Moving on.  I know everyone hurts.  I know it is not a smooth ride for all, that the ones who seem like they have it all have their own hurdles to overcome.  But I feel like I'm hurting more than I should.  Of course, who's to say how much I should hurt but I don't understand why I am so miserable, how the stack of sadness piles up and on top of me every single day.

The energy I've put out does not matter.  The positivity, the love, the words of encouragement because I don't get back.  I'm everyone else's therapist but who is calling me in the middle of the night to talk about me?  Who's texting me to check on how I'm doing?  My pleas to you have gone unheard.  And I don't know how to reconcile that.  I don't know how to have a relationship with you.  I've prayed and meditated and listened and screamed and yelled and cussed at you and read my Bible and have been to numerous churches.  I prayed and prayed and spent so much energy putting myself in a holy place but I've never been centered, never found peace.  You remember all the times I broke down in tears and screamed until I lost my voice because I was so lost and I called out to you with everything I had?  I needed you so bad and you never came through.

Well God, this is getting pretty long, isn't it?  Why don't you and I take a pee break and we'll meet back here in a few?  Don't sneak out on me, now...