An Open Letter to God
Heard from a friend today, who reminded me of everything wrong in the world. Children in sex slavery in Cambodia. Where the hell are you? And where were you when the Holocaust happened? Or slavery? Or the Taliban? Or the crusades? Where?
So I sit, waiting for you to split the sky and come down, burning to a crisp every twisted bastard among us. I sit, weeping, rocking gently in my chair. I breath in the air-conditioned coolness. I look up at the white ceiling of my new house, waiting for you to tear off the roof. I fume with anger, and then I remember: I had forgotten.
I have known for the years about the child sex trade. A friend in college did recon and sting operations with the International Justice Mission. But I forgot. I became comfortable, distracted, self-centered. I was so busy being so excited about how many hits my blog got today. Screwed-up bastard that I am, I forgot to care.
If you’re waiting for me to be ready, God, before you come down… if that’s what’s holding you up, thanks, I guess.
If you’re waiting for me to take action, God, if that’s what these children need… help me! Help them! Help me help them!
We need you. I don’t know how much longer we can wait.