I’m a little pissed at Him right now … Him being God. I am not afraid to admit it. I’ll probably be shoved into the pit of hell or shunned because of blasphemy. Do not throw your dusty bible at me or grab the bottle of holy water that’s been resting in your crotch. I do believe in a higher power … I do believe there’s a place above all with angels adorned in robes crafted from the finest fabrics. I do believe in miracles … I do believe in the golden gates. Like most, I’m always questioning His timing … His sense of humor.
Dear God, why not me? Why haven’t I received the answer to my prayers (more like cries for help)? You know, the prayers I’ve been uttering for the past five years, 2 months, and 23 days. Some say, it’s just not my time or others constantly remind me of the biblical adage, “He may not come when you want Him, but He’ll be right on time.”
I guess my thinking is spiritually out of sync or tainted because I am constantly reminded of the “false” perception of happiness through social media (you know, the luxurious trips to Punta Cana, the fabulous excursions on a yacht, or the kissie face selfies near the Eiffel Tower). I will admit, I envy those who are given the freedom to love without regret or the freedom to connect with their love mate … their second heartbeat. It’s a complicated task not to live your life through the reflection of someone else. A drift of depression tends to set in when I compare my current dating stance to women (or men) who “own” their extremely active social lives outside of their 9-5 … Just call me Basic Ass Becky. 😭
Dear God, why not me? I prayed not for all the riches of the world (but, if you’re issuing passes, I’m down) or to be blessed with (a single) David Beckham in H&M briefs or a bare chested Morris Chestnut wrapped in a damp (just stepped out the shower) Egyptian towel (but, if you’re molding one, hook a sista up). Ok, Ok, back to reality. I want the love without internal bruising, the tears of pain from infidelity, or the chipped heart from loving him more than I love myself. I want the love that hoards constant laughter; love that emits sparks only him and I will have the pleasure of experiencing; love that speaks many languages; love that withstands war between two conflicting souls; etc. etc.
Dear God, Why not me? Lord, I will be forced to wear the armor of a woman in need during her sweet hour of prayer … a padded helmet with the satin black girl bonnet (BGB) underneath, neck brace, elbow pads, boxing gloves (I mean, I’m just saying, it’s going down in the prayer DM), and knee pads. Le Sigh …
This continuous journey of mine will not be diverted. Love will prevail.
Karma Loves ❤️💋