You know, I read the blogs of others quite frequently, and this is why I don’t write un my own as frequently.
I am not them. I do not have their lives. I do not have their concerns. I do not have their talents.
And I certainly do not have their spirituality.
I have the longing; the wishing; the hoping, but I also have the knowledge that I will never be what they are.
You want to know the status of my prayer life? It sucks. I hate it. I feel like I am talking to some invisible man, who quite possibly does not exist.
I say this not because I don’t believe in God. Oh, I am sure he exists up there on His big ol’ mountain. But he is up there and I am down here and I just can’t bring myself to actually believe that he gives a damn about me.
That’s right. I said it. Blasphemy.
I don’t believe in a Personal Savior. Just don’t.
I believe that Jesus died to save us all, and he loves us all, in that crazy way that only God can. But he doesn’t love me, Crystal, crazy girl who prays to an invisible god.
He loves me. Child of God, someday Mother in Zion. Maybe even someone’s wife someday.
I guess I believe that God loves me in concept.
It’s the only way that I can accept it.
I can go to Church. I can pay my tithing. I can serve my neighbor and love him as I love myself.
But don’t ask me to pray.
I don’t believe in a God who answers prayers.