An Open Letter to God

Hello Lord,

Well, that in itself is an interesting way to start.  I choose to address you as Lord, rather than Father, God or Jesus as I sometimes do.  Lord implies that I see you as a Person of power, of authority, and also to be revered.  This makes the level of honesty I wish to embrace a little tricky.  In fact, lets start again…

Dear Father God,

Well, as you know, I have had a couple of bits of bad news recently.  Not only is there a chance that I will not have a my contract renewed this coming April, but now Denise is back in hospital.  The interesting thing is that I am not as floored as I thought I would be.  I think I may be in denial about the job thing, especially as I do not yet know which way this is going to fall, and perhaps I have developed a kind of immunity to the fluctuation in my sister’s health.

There is a chance that is the case.  However, I could equally just be in that lag period and the reality of these situations is about to catch me up.  Knowing myself as I do, I fear it is going to hit me with an almighty thump sometime soon, and the results will not be pretty.

In fact, I am wanting to feel something about this.  I am not saying that I particularly want to be anxious and/or angry, but this odd detachment and not knowing quite how I am is disconcerting.  If I were shaking my fists at you and yelling, I would know myself.  If I were dissolving into floods of tears, I would know myself there too.  But this?  This I do not know.

As I type, waves of that kind of nausea you get in your chest and stomach prior to an interview or exam, for example, are coming and going.  This is the main sign that I am not as immune to all of this as I would like to believe.  It is also a sign that my detachment is not a result of me drifting on some kind of happy cloud of faith and trust.  In fact, we are barely on speaking terms at present, you and I.

No-one could deny that this ‘letter to you’ is really a cry out to my friends on the web.  The fact that I am addressing it to you is testament to the fact that I think I should be talking honestly with you about this, but that I am not really.  Perhaps I don’t really want to.  Perhaps the stuff that is going on under the surface, that you are likely to know, is too unpalatable to face.



Update:  D out of hospital. YAY!!! Looks like it was a bug, and not the usual inexplicable sickness thing.  😀

Also, have decided to see the job situ as an opportunity to explore some ideas I have.  May not need to come to anything, as the funding may come thru, but if I do have to leave I could well have a feasible contingency plan.  Opportunity comes in many disguises.

Thanks to all of you for your kind words and prayers.  You totally rock!

10 thoughts on “An Open Letter to God

  1. Oh Dith, really wish I was closer by to give you a hug. Are you phone-able at any point over the weekend?

  2. perhaps its sometimes easier to write it down rather than say it out loud ’cause then it’s real … we’re with you babe! In spirit and internettywise only in my case I’m afraid, but I’m sure someone will give you a massive hug on my behalf!

  3. Dith, that numb feeling is the worst of all the feelings, in my opinion. I’ve felt it so many times before. People find it the hardest one to understand, to cope with. How, in the midst of such trauma, can one possibly feel a numbness and a detachment which makes you begin to feel inhuman, trapped in a bubble existance. Bleugh… I can feel it now, subsuming me. The heightened emotions feel more real, more normal, but this numbness, as you say, is the mind’s way of dealing with it but does not feel a way I like to embrace for long.
    Have you noticed it affects your relationships with everyone, as well as God? I find myself talking from inside my bubble, disconnecting with anyone who might have any insight into the real me: even myself to some degree. Does that make any sense at all? It might resonate, it might be just me and your numbness different again.
    God has been there through my numbness. Corny, but I look at the clouded skies and remember that the sun is still shining there: I may not feel its warmth on my body or the lifting of the spirits I get when the clouds are gone, but it is still there, sustaining life and stopping me from being totally enveloped by the darkness. Even if I shut myself in my house and close the curtains and surround myself with artificial light, the sun is still there and without it I would be nothing. So it is with God. Hang in there – His love sustains you, even if at the moment you can’t feel it… not least by providing the shoulders you need to cry on and the virtual friends and “real” friends who are there for you – the candles, torches, lightbulbs and hot water bottles which it’s unfair to call “artificial” but which reflect God’s light and warmth.

    If you can’t talk honestly to God, just give him carte blanche to read what’s in your inmost being and let it be. He knows the real Dith better even than the real Dith already 😉

  4. can’t really add anything / familiar with not feeling, when I should / it doesn’t make the emotion any less real …

    and, of course, hoping that things will work out better than, perhaps, you’re expecting …

  5. My husband has gone through periods of bad health over the last few years some of which sound a bit like your sister. He has been better this year, only one hospital admission.
    But when things were really bad and he was in and out of hospital a lot I sometimes felt huge relief that he was where someone else had the job of worrying about him and I could get on with my life. This is about a man I have loved almost more than life itself for 38 years. So detachment I can easily understand. It will work out.

  6. Dith, just caught up for the last month or so. Life is sounding tough, no wonder you feel numb. It is normal, yes, you normal! It is a coping mechanism. Give yourself permission to let a bit out every now and then, somethings are better dealt with in small doses. Then take a deep breath, hold your head up high and keep going. Try not to feel bad about it, that way leads to dark tunnels.

    You are still Dith and we still love you.

    BIG hugs.


  7. ((((Dith))))

    I feel detached when I get overwhelmed too. I think it is normal. The emotions shut down when there is too much to deal with.

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