Are you there God? It’s Me. Cristin: Open Letter to The Big Three

Dear God:

It’s me. Cristin.  I know I haven’t really talked to you since last night at dinner, and even then, I kind of rushed that conversation because I was hungry. This low/no carb thing makes me a little nutty. Sorry. Actually, most of my conversations with you are kind of rushed. Then my mind wanders. I’m a bad follower, huh? There’s nothing new about that. Twitter could tell you the same. My bad, G.

I’ve been thinking about you an awful lot recently. Okay, that’s a lie, and you know it’s lie. Damn it! But, I have been thinking about my faith more than usual.  This guy Kurt (you know Kurt, the one that doesn’t believe you exist, ginger fellow with a good ear for music, questionable dance moves…) commented the other day on Twitter how he felt he couldn’t  express his own atheistic beliefs publicly or among friends without some sort of intolerant reaction from friends, families and coworkers. That got my wheels spinning. I gotta be honest, I was internally reactionary to my friend Kurt. My gut reaction was to tell him to stick a carrot in the hole in his face wasn’t very God-like. Instead, I tried to share a tolerant approach, but only to prove a point; that people, especially Christians, could be tolerant of his views. (Counterproductive and passive-aggressive!)  The more we conversed, the more I saw he was right (about the intolerance, not about you. heh). It was good to practice self-control for once; we had a lively, 140 characters or less conversation.  I actually gained quite a bit of respect for that fellow and learned quite a bit about myself in return.

So, I thought I’d share what I felt. Maybe Twitter isn’t the most appropriate place to talk about application of theology and doctrine.  It’s clear that for my own peace, and for the building of this relationship, I need to share some feelings I have about you (all three of you in one of you which is still so confusing but not really). Ready for this?

Here I am, an alleged follower of Christ (which my parents so aptly named me) and I don’t do that great of a job following. Instead, I have control issues, which really amounts to faith issues. I want to dictate every detail of my life (and that doesn’t even really work). Even the things I think I have control over, I realize later, was ordered by your divine intervention. I’m not sure why I think my own ways are better than yours. Hell (uh, no pun intended), you survived life, death, and resurrection. I barely survive making it through a workout. I must say, though, you have been an excellent example of what a man, even a human should be. I see it being reflected in the closest people in my life. The love seems to be amazing and unconditional, and I know that it’s you. I am surrounded by people who are willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, which only reversely reflects my constant selfishness. I’ll work on that. With your help.

Oh Father. I know you judge every #churchvan tweet I send, but I can’t help myself. I just keep leaning on this hope that you have the sense of humor I think  you have. You must! After all, I see a lot of stupid around me, too, and that has to be for fun. Right? For some reason, you are the most intangible part of this God thing for me. I don’t really like admitting that aloud, but there it is. The truth. I think it’s because I just feel the constant judgment, the constant watching…and that makes me uncomfortable. I do a lot of bad things. I say a lot of bad things. I THINK even worse things. You know it all! I feel like you, if in a huddle with the other two, would be the one to decide that I’m spending the rest of my days with Joe Paterno, Todd Haley, O.J. Simpson, the whole kU football team. I don’t want that. So, I try to ignore your position in this in this matter. Just like my earthly father, you’re one hard dude to ignore. You seem to know just how to pluck my attention at the right time. You’re good. Like, made the earth in 7 days good. Not like these Cheez-its are good.

This past Sunday while singing our church’s version of contemporary Christian music, you swept in and spooked me a bit. I’m usually not too moved by the music during church, but something on my insides shook, and I started to cry. Why? Not sure. Shame. Anger. Happiness. Love. Overwhelmed. I often feel guilty because I am so emotional all the time. I try not to be, but then I feel this great disconnect from life.  However, I think it’s through my emotion that I connect with you, and with everyone else. I can’t believe that what I feel on the inside isn’t driven by something greater than me. Everything in me tells me so. I’m beginning to be at peace with that. I really need for you to help me to harness all of this internal energy, though. I need for you to help me use these feelings for what they are intended. On the wall in my classroom, hidden behind my desk, is a a little sign that reads “All I have seen teaches me to trust the cretor for all I have not seen.” Emerson has nailed that for me. I’ve already talked to J.C. about my control issues. Maybe you and him can tag-team on helping me to learn self-control too?

Above all (no pun intended), I appreciate that even though I don’t put you first, you are still there. There has never really been a doubt in my mind that you existed. There has been quite a bit of doubt on why I do. I’m not saying that in a way in which you should call in some angelic reinforcements. I do struggle with finding my place and my purpose, but again, I think that goes back to control issues. I want to thank you. I want to praise you. I want to share you. I want to reflect your goodness. Mostly, I want to keep you in my heart.

I’m sorry that I don’t.

I’m working on it.

Sincerely,

Cristin

P.S. Can we please keep that thing I do to ourselves? No one really needs to know. Cool? Cool.

P.S.S. Why are bad words so fun?