An Open Letter to God
I am so confused and worn. I simply cannot understand. My heart is crushed, my soul is empty.
How can it be that this week has been as heartachingly sad as the week my husband was arrested? How is it possible that I am not filled with hope after all these months?
I look at photos of myself before the age of five and I wonder who that little girl can possibly be. She didn’t get to live the life that was ahead of her when she was little. That was ripped from her at an early age. Sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse—those things scarred so much of her heart. If that little girl didn’t get to live her life, who the hell am I?
Father, You know the tears, the pleading, the crying out to You. There has been so much and yet nothing seems different. It causes me to doubt—if You exist, if I am one of Yours, if You care.
The Dark Night of the Soul is back on me with a vengeance. Will there ever be sunrise again?
My friends must be tired of me by now. My therapist certainly is, and so is my husband, to a certain degree.
Papa, I just don’t know what You want.
Can’t you pull us out of this pit? Have we committed too many sins for that?
I honestly don’t know anymore, God.
Please reply ASAP.