Dear God...

Dear God, I was born to neglectful and physically abusive parents....what are You doing?

Dear God, I was born with a congenital defect....what are You doing?

Dear God, as a result of parental neglect, my birth defect became a lifelong chronic medical condition...what are You doing?

Dear God, You gave me two wonderful grandparents, and when I absolutely needed them the most, You took them away from me...what are You doing?

Dear God, while most kids enjoyed perfect health, I was a patient at Children's Hospital...what are You doing?

Dear God, You took two babies from me...what are You doing?

Dear God, You allowed me to make peace with my dad, but soon after took him away from me...what are You doing?

Dear God, You left me alone with a narcissistic manipulative mother...what are You doing?

Dear God, my only sibling has made me the scapegoat for the sins of our parents.  We will never have a normal sibling relationship...what are You doing?

Dear God, please don't misunderstand me.  I don't believe that I'm like Job.  Job had it much worse.  As a matter of fact, most of the world has it much worse.  You have given me many blessings that I don't deserve.  But as C.S. Lewis observed we turn to Him in our deepest moments of pain, but yet God does not seem to be there when you need Him most.

Where is God? Go to him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double-bolting on the inside. After that, silence.  (A Grief Observed)

Dear God, please don't misunderstand.  Please don't think that I'm demanding an explanation. Because I am not.  I am merely requesting a scintilla of insight that may buoy me to endure another day.

Talk to me about the truth of religion and I'll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I'll listen submissively. But don't come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don't understand. (A Grief Observed)