Letter 4

Dear Heavenly Father,

 

Checking in. Wanted to let you know I haven’t forgotten about you. Also wanted to let you know that this week was terrible.

 

I found myself in a fabulous state of descending depression in which I considered drinking as a solution to my problems. We both know that that is probably not a good idea considering my family’s history of alcohol dependence. That factoid has always been my main reason for never drinking; the detail that I think alcohol tastes like lighter fluid aside. However, getting out right schnockered appealed this week. I see you were at work in my house though, and so found barely a lick of reasonable booze to slosh down my gullet.

 

Instead of turning to liquor, I took a couple naps, stared at pictures on Deviant Art, became increasingly annoyed at the frivolousness of my Facebook friends, and watched lots of movies until I spazzed out and broke the universal remote. Then there was the night I screamed at Kenny. I unleashed a torrent of guilt, foul language, poorly chosen words, and a compilation of general phrases that were quite exaggerated and almost made my husband cry.

 

As if I wasn’t driving myself crazy enough, I started dieting too. Less to eat, no sugar, low fat, and no pop; on top of HCG drops. It’s working; sending you a sincere thank you very much. Unfortunately, for the last couple of days I’ve plateaued; and do you know why? Because I ate a piece of cheese one day and then a small piece of bread the next. What the heck is that?! How ridiculous and unfair is it that a piece of cheese and a half slice of toast could stop me mid-weight-loss?

 

I would really like and appreciate your help with this whole thing. I have a goal in mind that is completely reasonable for this diet but I need serious help getting there. As well as a little restraint of mind for when my husband brings out junk food; I usually have a strong desire to knock him down and take it away from him.

 

 

There is a big grocery list of things I would like your help on, all of which you already know. Yet it seems, sometimes, as if you don’t know about them or even care. I shouldn’t expect my own plans to be of big importance, I know this. I am aware that my plans typically only benefit myself, and sometimes some of the people around me, where as your plans benefit everyone on Earth. Being a part of those plans has always been a dream for me; you know this quite well. Wanting what you want for me seems so easy in my mind and sometimes I can feel us sync up. Still, when things get hard and dirty I lose track of what I’m searching for, you, obviously.

 

In C. S. Lewis’ book, The Screwtape Letters, there is a paragraph that keeps running through my mind,

“…Of course I [Screwtape the demon] know that the Enemy [God] also wants to detach men from themselves, but in a different way. Remember always, that He really likes the little vermin, and sets an absurd value on the distinctness of every one of them. When He talks of their losing their selves, he only means abandoning the clamour of self-will; once they have done that, he really gives them back all their personality, and boasts (I am afraid, sincerely) that when they are wholly His they will be more themselves then ever…”

 

Giving up what I want, wanting what you desire for me, and then continuing to allow that set of mind is much harder than I thought it would be. Although, I want you to know how much I truly want that I also need you to know that I am terribly weak. I know you want me to help people; I’ve known that since I was a little girl. Recently I’ve come to realize that I am very good at it while, admittedly I never allowed myself to consider that I was.

 

Bearing in mind all of this, you know how much I love stories, telling them, reading/ hearing/ seeing them. When I was little I wanted to be an actress so that I could tell stories visually. Then, as I grew older I realized my talents for putting a story together around a core of moralistic values. You helped me write four stories in two years; two of which were full on novels. You have shown me so many times in the last three years what I am capable of doing; you remind me daily. Is it not time, now, to put me to work doing what you have made me qualified for? I’m begging you to make things change. Life will never be easy, but it can move forward and improve. You have always made this clear. When dad was ruining my childhood. When I couldn’t read because I couldn’t see. When mom and I were homeless. When I thought mom might die and I would have to go live with dad. Never once did you fail in making things better. I know it was prep work for me.

 

My mother once told me that I shouldn’t ask for change unless I’m sure I’m ready because you will give it. Father, isn’t it time to make things change? I want them to. I held off for a long time, but come what may, however hard it will be; it has to be better than what I have right now.

 

In Jesus name I pray, Amen

 

P.S. I love you with all my heart, please don’t forget that.

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