Getting Right with God. My Way.

I wish that I could rely on things like email forwards and "Footprints". Contrary to popular belief and to what lots of people want from me, I dig church and God and traditions. But I'm too smart to take everything the way I can take a Fat-Free Jell-O Pudding Cup with cut up marshmallows.
I mean, all that's going on in that poem is a person walking on the metaphoric Beach of Life and all these things happen and where's God? Gone Goose, that's where.
In fact, thinking about this poem makes me want to write an open letter to God because I have some issues that I'd like to discuss. I can hardly believe that hard things happen while you're walking on the beach and reflecting. You step on a crab? That hurts a lot but is it really a matter where God should step in? Hardly.
The hem of your pants gets wet and you are left feeling a little chilly? God doesn't need to do shit about that, honey.
I also think that God being all tricky and "Let-Me-Teach-You-a-lesson-Missy is a little bit mean.

"Dear God,
We really need to talk about that Catholic poem, "Footprints." My first problem with it is that nothing bad results from strolling on the beach and reflecting on life. It's a very calming activity and it's difficult to get worked up over anything, past/present/or spiritual while I'm lazing My way down an empty stretch of beach. In fact, I think if there ever is a time to reflect, that time is most likely found on an empty beach or under a blanket of desert stars. I tend to feel like you're a part of the vastness in those places, not like you've been abandoned. Who cares? I'm peaceful and you're at the beach.

My second problem is that You totally trick the person in the poem. Since You are all-knowing, wouldn't one expect that she could rely on the Almighty Him to give what's needed on a case-by-case basis, rather than scare those of us who suffer from anxiety and depression into believe that we really are All Alone? Is it too much to ask that if I am feeling like that dog turd I saw a ways back in sand, You could just get it over with and show me two sets of footprints and we could avoid the whole "I was carrying you, you stupid shit" exchange.

I'm trying to get at the fact that You're God and You should know I'm down there on the Beach of Life and I need to talk to You, BAD. It's not the time for a lesson. I feel lost and alone and it's the time to show me that I am very much not alone. Hell, hide the footprints but show me a shadow, at least! We can do the whole lesson when I'm in a better place.
So You're saying, no we can't and that's the point of the poem? That the lesson will only take hold if I live through the extra trauma of thinking that You have deserted me on this lonely beach during the times of my greatest duress?
There are so many things wrong with that lack of reasoning that I'm not sure where to begin. Let me go to my gut feeling. It's not a very nice way to behave, God. I expected You to be nicer, I guess.

If I was God, I would be nicer to my people who are hurting. Let's say, hypothetically of course, that I had a Sim on my Play Station 2 and she was living in filth and crying all the time. I wouldn't leave her in that condition, even though mayhap she got that way because I was clinically depressed for about a year and I thought my Sim, Angie, would be fine for a little while if I just let things go a little bit and slacked off on paying attention to her needs.
Well then even Angie's mother quit calling her and she was crying
and wearing a lot of black and a lot of makeup so I (God) stepped in and gave her the strength to pick up the phone and call for a pizza.
From then on, Angie's life started improving dramatically and now she has a great career as an Opera Singer.
And friends.
Because I (God) took steps when she was at her filthy worst and helped her out. I just gave her what she needed - it was that simple and look at her now: An OPERA SINGER. I didn't try to teach her a lesson or look for payback. I gave her what she asked for, trusting that she knew herself, and now she's flourishing.
I'm very proud.

Now in the poem, You supposedly helped this lonely survivor out by carrying her but come on - what kind of help is that? You have the power to CHANGE CIRCUMSTANCES and You carry me?
I'm depressed, not drunkenly incapacitated like that one time Junior year of college. I don't need to be carried. I need some validation and a few hints into my destiny. I need a laptop computer and a phone call telling me exactly what I want to hear so that I can move back home into the land of the living. I don't need to be talked down to when I ask You a question, that's for sure. You're the Creator. You don't have to be so sarcastic all the time.
Plus, if You were seriously carrying me, I hesitate to think what it would have been like if I'd fallen off of Your Almighty Back. I'm going to take a venture-guess and say that there might have been some blisters from the fires of Hell, from where I tried to jump off of a cliff at the Hellmouth and landed precariously on a ledge, only to have a hand-to-the-head-smacking light-bulb moment of "What was I THINKING?" and then gathered myself together and climbed the freak out, numbing my delicate hands to the heat of the Brimstone.

So thanks...
but just because You're the Alpha and the Omega doesn't mean You're getting off easily for that farce of a poem that has misguided the lost and the left behind for decades.
No, Siree.
You need to think about the impact that Your actions have on the little people. You need to consider a different type of approach for the New Millennium because this crap isn't working anymore, Lord and "Savior". This is the 2000s and people know what they need. There's totally time for lessons, and I totally get that need to administer lessons to people. You and I are clear on which ones I've been a party to and I thank You, I really do. I'm a more spiritual and gracious person because of them.
But for Heaven's Sake, don't carry me during the hard times. You have the wherewithal to provide me with what I need, so why not do it? If there's a good reason and I'm missing it, call me. I'll answer the phone for You, God.
But if there's not a really good reason as to why You cop out and carry me when all I need is a couple of very small requests to be fulfilled and a little "Show Me the Path" juju, then it's time to put me down already and start providing.

And I didn't drop the f-bomb once in this whole letter so, really, You have to know that I'm serious.
I'll be making my actual requests off camera, a little later this week so think about what I've said here and think about looking at your Earthly Kingdom from a slightly different point of view, eh?
Say, mine?
Yeah. It's not so bad. It even, dare I say it, makes SENSE!

Yay God!
We make a great team.

arizonasarah at 10:37 a.m.

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