Letter to God

Dear Eternal, All Powerful and Just Father,
          As I thought about what a letter to You might sound like, I thought about the prayers I send up daily and the fact that a letter to you would just be a prayer in print.

I thought about my intense desire for a car so that I wouldn't have to rush down my hill to catch the bus to work each day, or get squeezed to a near pulp when the conductors tried to fit twenty-five people into fifteen-seater buses. But I then thought of those who had to walk tens of miles to do manual labour all day, receive bare minimum wages then walk back home.  I thought of those who didn't need to catch a bus to any place as they didn't have jobs and instead walked the streets begging pennies so they could somehow provide a meal for the several stomachs in their shelter-less households.

I thought about my desire for a perfect partner, one who was easy on the eyes, educated and ambitious.  But I then thought of the many brilliantly handsome abusive husbands and wives and hoped that You, Omniscient One, would help their loved ones see a way out of those situations.

I thought about the scratches on my legs and arms from my dog's nails because I could only afford to take him to the vet to get his shots and not to have him shampooed and groomed.  But I then thought about those whose eyes or teeth or general health deteriorated because they couldn't afford to visit the doctor or obtain prescribed medicines.

I thought about the annoying discomfort brought about by the strains of the illness I am recovering from.  But I then thought about the physical and emotional torment of those resident of hospices the world over or who painfully upheld the laws against euthanasia.

Dear God, as I thought about the comforts that I did not enjoy and wished to have, I felt guilty.  Guilty that the things that seemed to bother me most, paled in comparison to that which was crucial.  

Suddenly my prayer was no longer about me, except to say thank You.

Amen.