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Hey, God. Remember me? You know that girl with the black hair and the green eyes who lives by herself? The one who hates asking for help, works at QwikMart and drives a blue sedan? Yep. That's me. I think we need to talk.
Here's the thing – I've been having trouble lately. Things haven't been going all that well. In fact, you could say things have been going awful. My car got rear-ended last week, then two days later I broke my foot, You know, God. Now that my foot's broken, it's hard for me to get around at work and I'm scared they'll fire me. And if they fire me I won't be able to pay rent. I don't know what I could do then besides live on the streets. My landlady wouldn't care, of course. She hates me and makes sure I know it.
With all these messes, God, I can hardly breathe. You know my sister, right? I usually talk things over with her. Well, her marriage is breaking up. I don't even know what to say when I call her these days.
I really don't like to bother You, but I'm starting to wonder if I can handle this. It's hard enough having Mom gone without having to deal with petty things like my bike chain falling off. Not that I can ride my bike with a broken foot.
So anyway, I was wondering if You could maybe scale back the disasters a little bit. I know that people deal with worse things, God, and You're probably busy helping people who really need it, like my friend's husband with terminal cancer. But if You could give me just a little of your time, that would be great, because I'm having a meltdown over here. I wish I could just let it all go and breathe freely again. I'm used to overcoming things. I can solve problems like nobody's business. But being helpless is not my thing.
Are you there, Lord? You don't seem really interested in solving all my problems miraculously. I, for one, am exhausted and ready to give up. So I guess I'll just leave this whole mess in Your hands. You can do what You want, Lord. Your will be done.
There. I said it. It was hard, but I got it out. And Lord – I feel better. Even though my foot still hurts and my rent still looms and my car is still a piece of junk, Lord, I think I can maybe trust You to deal with it how You want to.
And Lord, I feel like maybe... just maybe... I can even breathe.
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