I love you like my own mother because you are. I respect you like my own father because, well, you are. I honor you like you created the universe and put it in order, because you did that too.
I have seen your face, held your hand and been encouraged by you when I did not believe I could carry on.
I talk to you all the time; everyday. Most of the time I talk to you without ceasing. Sometimes you talk back directly. Other times you talk through people, and sometimes you just sit still so that I may figure some things out on my own.
You have been a rock on which my world rests.
Which is why what I have to say may seem out of line, out of character, and even a little disrespectful.
But, God I need to ask you, where the hell are you?
I don’t ask to sound poetic or tortured in the artistic sense. And I’m not asking because I don’t believe you exist. I ask in the general sense.
As the shell casings are yet warm from the latest mass shooting, and the ink not yet dry on the ransom note for the most recent young women in Africa who have been kidnapped and raped, I ask where are you?
As yet another unarmed black child has been executed by police officers, and as middle America explains the execution away, and as another team of mayors and city officials attempt to cover up the cover up that is police violence, I ask where the hell are you?
As our elected officials invoke your name to shill their inherently evil policies, as politicians swear you told them to run for office when their agenda contradicts you in every way, and when they make increasingly unhinged comments that belittle your people, I have to ask, where in the hell are you?
I know you are not in all of that. In fact, you are not in any of that. I know that you have laid out some rules to help us interact with each other and play fair in this world.
But, to the extent that you also created free will, there will be some who follow the simple rules you have laid out, and some who do not.
However, I am not asking where the hell you are because I feel like you should somehow stop bad people from being bad.
I’m asking where the hell are you because I need help explaining to the people who question that you exist, why you allow the evils of this world to happen.
And telling them about “free will” doesn’t cut it. Telling them that you work mysteriously won’t cut it. Telling them that you allow bad things to happen in this world because you are judging the world, is not only untrue, but that won’t cut it either.
To be honest, none of the reasons Christians give to those who doubt you, are sufficient. They ring hollow outside a church building. They fall flat on the streets. They are punchlines of jokes in nightclubs.
I’m asking where the hell are you because I need your help to help the people who are unsure if you are real, stop listening to the reasons many Christians tell them for why you allow this stuff down here to happen.
I need your help to make them understand that you are all of us; within all of us and you have empowered us to stop mass shootings, poverty, racism, and everything else that happens here that is inconsistent with your wishes.
I need you to ensure them that you will, like your son said in Matthew 28:20, be with them always even until the end of time.
God, do come quickly. I need you.