Dear God,

On this Wednesday I come to you in a state of disarray. I come to you humbly, anxiously and damn near confused. (I hope the word damn doesn’t cause you to stop listening as most theologians teach). I am confused because I am a young, single, Black, worried woman…a Human woman living amongst other Humans who may or may not answer to a higher being and live their lives accordingly.

But this note to you isn’t about them. It is my plea to you to provide answers and guidance in all areas in my life, for continued protection and a stronger sense of direction. Your Universe knew and understood me before I myself, and I am appreciative and most grateful for that. It knew the achievements I would make and my missteps, and you, in your infinite love and wisdom, adjusted your universe accordingly. It’s funny and amazing to think about all at the same time because in these days and times, it’s a feat to get another Human to not let the door slam in your face, or to move an inch to get through a doorway.

Today on this Wednesday, nestled between a rock and a hard place, I implore you to actively listen to my needs. I am in dire need of mental and spiritual nourishment, of the physical intimacy from a beloved, of the wisdom born of faith. You see Maker of the Universe, God, Allah, Jehova…you are the keeper and the orchestrator of this small thing we call life, and I, in my piss poor audition, I ask that you continue to see yourself in me. I ask that you remove my shields of compulsive worrying and obsessive tendency to dwell on the unimportant; and replace them or reveal that original light that has been pushed down deep like a painful memory. Remember how creative I used to be? Remember how I could survive on half of what I have now and never thought to complain? Remember when tension, headaches, and sleepless nights were something I heard of happening to other people?  Remember when I used to laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe? The passion I had for passion itself? The desire to want to smell sweet and say even sweeter things…yeah, I want all that back.

Take away the disdain for everything and everyone I sometimes have. Fight for me as I battle hopelessness, restlessness, and impatience. I understand that sometimes I need a fire to burn, but this fire, this fire right here, I need this one to ease up. I need the strength of Harriet, Elizabeth, Antonia, Eleanor and Reta. I need the strength of their grandmothers and then give me the strength of their grandmothers.

As I continue to maneuver through this time in your infinite Universe I hope that you continue to orchestrate this thing because I cannot. My attempts have been desperate and futile. And if things should get worse before better, then I ask that you make it as comfortable as possible with a warm bed at night, the continued rising of the sun, and a Golden Girls marathon.

Yours.

~Ishshah