Dear God,

I know I gripe a lot.  You’re probably really tired of hearing me tell work stories lately, especially since I’m supposedly doing “your work”.  I feel like you must be pretty tired of hearing people call so much pithy and relatively pointless stuff your work and your will.

You’re probably going to roll your eyes at this one, but I was watching a movie tonight.  Alone.  At my house which is a mess (though the floors are really clean).  Sitting on my butt.  Doing nothing to help people have a better life and know your love.

And for some strange reason, while reading facebook status updates about General Conference and people making decisions about “your church” hundreds of miles away, I got really overwhelmed.  With life.  Even though nothing has really happened yet at GC and probably very little will happen that can truly count as your will being done (I have a feeling you don’t really give a crap about Robert’s Rules of Order when there are children dying everywhere tonight).

I don’t know.  That dumb movie.  It’s not the first time, you know that.  I pretty much decided to study history in college because of a fictional movie about a piece of WWII that I knew nothing about prior to watching.  It was a love story, and I felt a shift in my heart and mind about the world for some reason.  And I got a degree.

But tonight, I don’t know.  That dumb movie.  It wasn’t as good as the book (I’m sure you know that and you sort of think that on a macrocosmic level all the time).  But I’m sitting on my bed crying.  I’m thinking about how this world is full of so much good.  And I just wish with all my heart tonight that I could make more good for you.  I don’t know that I can ever really stop the bad, the hurt, the sorrow, the alone, the really really really unfair.  But I want to make more good, more love, more warm, more sweet, more peace.  For you.

In The Secret Life of Bees, May is overwhelmed with her empathy for the sad things of the world, and she ends up drowning herself.  I don’t know how it happened tonight, in my dumb, empty house, on a dumb, lonely Tuesday… but I feel overwhelmed with my empathy, and with my gratefulness for the good things.  That all come from you.  And I feel overwhelmed for your sake, with just a small imagining of what you might think or feel or want.  And I don’t want to drown, I want to live.  For you.

Thank you for holy moments on dumb Tuesday nights.  Please don’t judge me for finding my breath during dumb movies.  Help me to make more good for your world.  To not get overwhelmed by the bad.  To love.  Endlessly.



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