I used to want to draw closer to You, and I thought that death would be the best thing of all, because it would carry me into Your embrace forever. When I was feeling low, I would pray Don’t leave me.
But then, one day – as I was crawling out of a terrible depression, and even as my life was getting much better – my thoughts about You began to change. I realized I didn’t really know You. Eventually, I realized I don’t believe that You are good. It was as if a light dimmed and then went out.
It went out and stayed out; it’s been a couple of years. But I still need to know what You’re like. In my religious community I can see many lives of faith, but now I can be with them only through a screen, and they feel further away with every passing week. Worship and music tell me about You, but they lose vitality when I’m alone, viewing them through my computer. The Book of Common Prayer used to feed and strengthen me, but now the prayers are lifeless.
Serve others is the idea that rescues me when I begin to sink. But it’s easier said than done when I’m scared to leave the house. I will find a way, though. Maybe I can offer some kind of online tutoring. I could do that for someone.
But as for You, I pray a lot less, although I read Evening Prayer last night. What I do more of is read the Bible. You are nothing like the blur of majestic lovingkindness I used to think You were. Still, Christians somehow read their Bible and conclude that You are good. I’m not trying to draw any conclusion; I just like reading the wildly imaginative parts and the parts that say You are mysterious.
O God, I remember before You all people who are suffering, especially the victims of racism in the United States whom all my years of righteous convictions, timid activism, and diligent voting did little or nothing to help. I remember before You my self-centered life and my cowardice. I remember before You Your creatures.
May 30, 2020 COVID-19 Infections and Deaths