Letter to God

Dear God,

It’s dark.

A silhouette of trees outlines my yard. A wet glare reflects off the street from last night’s rain. Houses sleep. Even the birds are still silent. I am up before the sun today and that never happens.

It’s dark in other ways, too.

I am wide awake and talking to you. Asking questions. Listening. Waiting for your answers.

I considered grabbing my blue colored legal pad and writing my letter on paper. The sensation of a gel pen and the flow of cursive writing has a calmness and beauty to it. I would fold the paper into thirds, address an envelope with only your name on the front, stick a few stamps on it, and mail it. Internet research suggests letters addressed to God are routed to Jerusalem, Israel. I don’t really know where it would go. I still may do it.

Just because.

It’s quiet. I like it being just the two of us.

As you know, morning Mass has been suspended for a few weeks now and will continue indefinitely. It’s too large of a gathering. Social distancing must be followed. I am grateful for the protection. I am more than okay not being there because I know you are with me when I’m not in a brick and mortar church. We walk together. It’s odd though with Easter approaching. It’s a big day for Christians. Strange move on your end.

I don’t get it.

I understood long ago that I don’t get to know the answers to many of my questions. A ginormous WHY persists. Why has any of this, all of this, happened?

As a human race, have too many of us lost focus on what’s important? Are we not listening? Why are some people ignoring social distancing, continuing to travel for pleasure, and perpetuating the false notion that the coronavirus is just like the flu or that they’ll be okay because they are young and healthy? What is wrong with these people?

I feel like there’s a me versus them mentality and we need to all be working together to slow the spread and flatten the curve. We are only as strong as our weakest link. There are some remarkably weak links out there. It’s a blessing I can’t be near them to let them know my feelings about their choices.

Or is there no reason for these events?

Is the reason just because?

My heart hurts. Life needs to sing again.

Ah, I’m hearing a few birds greeting the morning. I love that sound. Thank you for bringing me back to a simple joy. It’s getting lighter by the minute.

I question why the COVID-19 pandemic has happened the same way I question deaths from natural disasters, genocides, terrorism, and wars. Are these all just because?

I question why we couldn’t have acted sooner. Young people are dying, health professionals, the elderly, and people with underlying health conditions – like cancer. People across the country are learning the hard way the definition of asymptomatic. The young, the privileged, and the entitled are learning this pandemic isn’t only targeting groups that have been labeled as expendable. We all are seeing how the resources we have are overwhelmed and that we were ill prepared.

I question the hoarding. I question political responses.

I don’t get it. It’s a repeating refrain.

Maybe I’m not supposed to understand. I know there are many answers that are there just beyond my reach.

I do not question the goodness of our medical workers. You have created a group of heroes including doctors, nurses, pharmacists, and first responders that are dedicated to the point of exhaustion to support us. There are factory workers, grocery store workers, truckers, and farmers who are keeping us fed.

I do not question there will be an end to what is happening now. It just won’t be soon. There are still hard days ahead. Help us get through them.

Give us the science that will save lives. Give us needed equipment and gear to keep us safe. Give us leaders capable of understanding that people’s lives matter more than money. Give us hope. Give us wisdom. Give us love.

Hope comes in small doses these days. Signs of spring are appearing. My rhubarb sprouted up in my garden last week. Friends and family support me. I miss my people. New groceries each week or so keep me hopeful and nourished. I love getting outdoors to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sunshine. Music is a source of hope. Moving and sticking to my training schedule gives me hope for the future. Staying home and feeling safe is immensely hopeful as it is a solid action that can make a positive difference. Hope comes in the form of prayer. In the form of letters.

Help us give one another more hope.

Give us the warm sunshine that fills us inside.

Well, God, it’s time to wrap up my letter and move on to breakfast. I’m not sure what kind of closing is appropriate because I’ve never written to you before. More traditional prayers get an Amen. You pop in and out more informally throughout my day. My letter is somewhere in between.

Time will show what miracles we see and the lessons we learn.

I’ll keep looking for signs and answers as I always do. I’ll keep questioning and listening for answers. I’ll keep hoping and being thankful. I’ll keep doing my best to find a way.

Always.

Yours truly,

Me