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Dear God,
I can’t say that I like today’s reading in Luke … about the rich man and the poor man, Lazarus, who sat at fat daddy’s door devouring the banana peels and chicken bones falling from the feasts of Mr. Selfish while the dogs licked the nasty scabs all over his body. They both go to heaven, and no this isn’t a joke. The wealthy dude with a 30 BMI (body mass index) is a tad uncomfortable (in HELL), and calls out to God’s waiter, Abraham, to kindly get Lazarus to “dip the tip of his finger and cool his tongue.”
“You’re serious?” Abe asks Mr. He-Doesn’t-Get-It.
“Come on,” the sweating millionaire begs Abe. “The temperature down here would spoil milk, especially organic milk, in less than three minutes. What are you guys trying to accomplish?”
“For one, a lesson,” Abe says, pulling out his chalkboard. “And here’s a clue … you should have thought about all this back when you were inhaling KFC and Godiva chocolates. Back when poor Lazarus was dog food and you watched as if the lickings were a good Dr. Phil show. I hate to be the one to drop this blazing bomb on you, Bro, but there isn’t exactly an international exchange program, no co-op arrangement between our two little worlds—yours of flame and fire and torment, and mine of Ben & Jerry’s. There’s no crossing between sides. Never. Ever. Get it?”
“Then at least send Lazarus to my father’s house, to give the low down to my five brothers. Even though they’ve pissed me off plenty times, I don’t want them to fry in Betty Crocker’s oven, as well.”
“Don’t worry, they got the God Squad (the ORIGINAL ONE)—Moses and the prophets.”
“Uh … yeah, and they’ll listen to them about as much as the Jehova Witnesses biking to the front door or the guys selling “Parenting” magazine for $1000 a pop. They need someone else, someone they recognize, someone from the dead.”
“All you loaded guys are the same. I’m telling you …. if they don’t listen to Moses or the prophets, what makes you think that they’re going to listen to some freaky ghost of the past? On second thought, don’t answer that question.”
Okay, God. I may have changed a few words, but I get the whole point of this story, and, frankly, it scares the hell out of me. Or, I guess, the hell in me. Because you know me … rather well as my creator, in fact. I’m a self-doubter. A natural ruminator. An original nutjob. How do I know I’m doing the right thing? The holy thing? The thing that will earn me a pass to Ben and Jerry’s delicious shop in heaven?
I always know when you are getting my attention. But I can’t read the fine print. You turn me around to face you, and then you don’t say anything.
I remember that flight to Boston in 1988 with my dad. The unnerving turbulence had me thinking that getting into Boston College should be down a few notches on my priority list, and praying for a safe landing should be first.
In fact, I remember my thought process on that flight: “If I die today, my life would be a waste. For the past few years all I’ve been doing is numbing the pain, quieting your voice, so that I can survive on a superficial level and not feel anything too deeply. But I think I’m called to more. Something in me says that I can make a difference, maybe even in a small way, if I turn around my life now and stop drinking, smoking, eating compulsively, lying compulsively. I promise you, right here and right now, that if this plane makes it to Boston, I will redirect my life.”
We landed, and two hours later I had renegotiated our contract. Until, a year later, I meant it.
You got my attention a week ago, when my endocrinologist suggested that my pituitary tumor might be growing again based on my blood work. Because brain surgery doesn’t fit into my school-year calendar.
And yesterday I hardly chatted with anyone else but you. I don’t think I’ve prayed that hard since little David pushed his two-year-old buddy into 15-feet of freezing water.
Let’s review.
6 AM Katherine wakes up with a cough and a fever. No big deal.
2 PM It’s getting worse. I schedule a doctor’s appointment.
3 PM I’m loading the kids into the car when I see that Katherine can hardly breathe. She’s trying to tell me that she can’t breathe, but she can’t speak. That scares her, so she’s crying, but not really making any noise except for wheezing, because she looks like she’s suffocating.
3:05 PM I panic and call 911 and explain that my 3-year-old can’t talk, and can barely breathe.
They ask me questions:
“Does she have a fever?”
“Yes, 102.”
“Can she talk? ”
“No.”
“Did she eat something different or swallow something?”
“No.”
“Does she have asthma?”
“No.”
“Does she have any allergies?”
“No.”
“Is she clammy?”
“Yes.”
“Is she starting to turn another color?”
“Sort of.”
“Is she alert?”
“She’s beginning to fall asleep, or pass out, I don’t know.”
“Wake her up. Keep her awake….Just try to keep her calm until we arrive.”
Now, God, if by making me watch my little angel breathe through an oxygen mask as a couple of paramedics wheel her gurney down the hall yelling “three-year-old with respiratory distress,” you wanted me to come to my knees, you certainly succeeded. Given that my dad died prematurely of a bronchial pneumonia, you knew where my paranoia lay.
Yes, I remember promising you everything yesterday.
“I promise I won’t whine so much about my kids. I’ll be more patient when they draw on the walls. I will laugh, and not cry at the nail polish on the baby grand piano. You’re right. You’re so right. It doesn’t matter. I won’t get mad at them for pooping. I’ll try to smile when they scream. I’ll do anything, ANYTHING, God, if you spare her life. I will give half of Eric’s salary to Catholic Relief Services. I will spend every Saturday afternoon at the Lighthouse shelter. I’ll go to daily Mass. I’ll teach the kids the rosary. I’ll call my mom more often and tell her how much I love her. What is it? I’ll do it! Please!”
But you must have known I was a tad desperate. Can we revise a little? The part about half of Eric’s salary going to Catholic Relief Services …. Let’s say 5 percent for now, and the more wealth we accumulate (that’s incentive for you), the higher percentage we will give them. Up to 25 percent. Okay?
And about complaining and whining, I’ll try my best … I really will! But you know how this bipolar disorder is … it’s worse than PMS … sometimes I just need to vent.
Mostly, God, I need to know what exactly I have to do, or who do I have to be, and what my family has to do and be to picnic on the side of Lazarus, the shore of Chunky Monkey, Cherry Garcia, Pumpkin Cheesecake, New York Super Fudge Chunk and Coffee Heath Bar Crunch Ice Creams.
In other words … please advise.
Your Friend,
Bipolar Lady Who Likes Ice-Cream and Comfy Places with Healthy Kids
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Therese J. Borchard writes the daily blog, Beyond Blue, on Beliefnet and is a regular contributor to the award-winning blog, World of Psychology, on Psych Central. Therese is the author of Beyond Blue: Surviving Depression & Anxiety and Making the Most of Bad Genes and The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit. Subscribe to Beyond Blue, visit her website, or follow her on Twitter @thereseborchard.
Meet others on the journey in
Therese’s community group
Ask Therese to be your friend
Therese J. Borchard writes the daily blog, Beyond Blue, on Beliefnet and is a regular contributor to the award-winning blog, World of Psychology, on Psych Central. Therese is the author of Beyond Blue: Surviving Depression & Anxiety and Making the Most of Bad Genes and The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit. Subscribe to Beyond Blue, visit her website, or follow her on Twitter @thereseborchard.
posted October 1, 2007 at 9:19 pm
Oh Dear Lord Therese,
I hope your little girl is OK! How scary for her and you. I have asthma, and believe me, I’ve had to call 911 more than once. It’s so terrifying when you can’t breathe and you feel like you’re going in and out of reality. I honestly pray that she’ll be fine. I’m sure she was so frightened.
As I say, our first responders are LIFE SAVORS and true HEROS!
Please, try to remain calm, as she’s in the Lord’s Hands.
Cindy
posted October 1, 2007 at 10:48 pm
Good evening,
I hope your daughter is ok, I’ll pray for her tonight.
Nat.
posted October 1, 2007 at 11:58 pm
Thank you so much for being brave enought to post your rant! I was planning mine for later tonight and the negative guilt thoughts flooded my head like niagra falls.
Who am I to rant to God? There are others who are worse off financially…yadda-yadda-yadda. It’s easy to forget that God understands and still wants to hear about MY nerosis. I imagine our rants are like when my daughter would grasp my face between her two tiny hands and say “mom, focus” if my ADD took me to a far away place, while she recanted her day at kindergarden. As His children we are never too small or insignificant to demand a little “me” time from HIm.
And in true God form, he’ll play a song on my car radio or send a butterfly for my dog to chase or something that says “I’m interrupting my never ending work on World Peace to bring u this message…’Point taken…I hear you…I’m here…I’ll help you through this in a moment…but for now relax on this…’”
For a moment I forget that 1000 years is but a day to God and that that “moment” may not be until next week or even several months–for that moment I’m a baby entranced with a colorful set of plastic keys…goo-goo, ga-ga.
So to everyone I say, rant to the skys about long lines at the DMV, Tuna salad with too much celary and movie theater seats that are shrinking faster than my favorite knit pants suit. Get Gods attention (er-but within reason, don’t go overboard like that Job guy. Getting God attention feels good, because he’ll always answer u in a way unique to you–like the inside joke between two lovers. And you will feel loved and special.
thanks again for your bravery.
posted October 2, 2007 at 1:05 am
Oh Therese – How scary when anything happens to our kids, and that doesn’t change even when they’re older. Thank God it was a treatable condition, and your prayers, past and present, allowed the connection to God to say to you “dial 911″. Be still and know that I am. Tall order when our minds are racing in a total and reasonable state of panic and fear. That had to be treacherous. Let’s also not leave out the blood work results regarding your pituitary tumor. Please keep us “posted” on this. I hear you about not having time for brain surgery. We make light of certain things to try to keep everything in perspective and not sound too scared, but the truth is, these are real events, not some imagined fears. These are the hardest kind. It’s different when we’re just projecting on something that can be attributed to thinking “off the beam” and have little to nothing to substantiate it. So we then know it’s about a shift in perception. These things are not that. Believe me. I get it about the bargaining stuff. God tells us it’s not necessary. First of all, none of our human good works will get us the pass to heaven. That is why he had to send down his Son in order to make us even potentially worthy to pass through those pearly gates one day. However, we need God to get us through all of life’s happenings. I think of the “Footprint” prayer/poem of being carried. I also think of a beautiful stained glass window in our church with the greatest of all Shepherds and his flock around him, while he carries one in his arms. I see myself in my mind’s eye being that little sheep. (God has to have some strong arms!) It’s the only way I can be of any value to this life. First to be his and ask for his care and protection in thought word and action. Praise God that Katherine is ok. We have friends who have experienced a situation where both of their young children went into seizures due to high temperatures. At first it was not known that that was the cause. It was a tumultuous time, which you can imagine. Life is tough. I hear you on the chunky monkey – I want to sit in my bed, veg out on some baskin robins pralines ‘n’ cream – decadent – no low fat in that portion. God has his hands filled with us, but that’s why God is God. He knows us better than we know ourselves.
posted October 2, 2007 at 1:11 am
P.S. – you are NOT whining and complaining. God doesn’t want us to keep our pains to ourselves and suffer in silence. The physical and mental difficulties we share can allow the stronger ones to carry the weaker ones as the cycles change. Sometimes I’m the strong one; other times the one in need of prayer and care. It’s a gift that you express yourself. Much of my life was lived behind a veil of “perfection” which almost killed me. I am who I am; the good and the bad; I try my best each day. Some days my best isn’t so great, but according to whose standards. I don’t recall God sending me a chart to define my worthiness or goodness each day. It really comes down to our hearts and intentions, actions and amends (where needed), courage to face life on life’s terms. You do that Therese. You put one foot in front of the other. You encourage us to do the same.
posted October 2, 2007 at 9:14 am
Your prayer was so genuine and down-to-earth. In our humanity, we really can’t do much more than say down-to-earth prayers. We haven’t ‘arrived’ yet. And we deal with day to day dirt and dire circumstances. We get the tail end of a north bound storm and it seems to leave a swath of destruction and devastation. But those facts notwithstanding, God isn’t playing a galactic basketball game with us and slam dunking us every time we turn around. We just live here and have to search for our peace in the middle of the storm. It would scare me spitless to have my child in that circumstance – so I can feel the fright and wish I could wipe it away. Your blog was a discovery I made only yesterday. The honesty of it has left me semi-speechless. But I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of your candor and strength – when hiding in fear would be so much easier. You are staying the course and it inspires.
God bless us . . .
posted October 2, 2007 at 10:49 am
“ASK ~ Ask and you shall recieve…Seek and you shall find…Knock and the door shall be opened unto you” (just a warning “Be careful what you ASK and pray for, you just might get it !”)
Father Yahweh, touch this child of Your’s, Katherine(and her family) make them Whole, healthy and well, filled with peace, joy and happiness, that they too, shall become a living testament of an all powerful God of Uncompromising, Unconditional Love … In Your Wholey name … Amen!
LUV 2 ALL
Wisdum
posted October 2, 2007 at 11:59 am
I’m so glad you are here posting, because that must mean Katherine is ok! How terrifying for you!
posted October 2, 2007 at 1:22 pm
Promises made under duress are never binding.
Choose what you want to keep of that prayer.
Or you can view it as an attempt at bribery and ask to be forgiven.
After all what kind of loving god would expect you to offer all that to keep your child alive? A real loving god doesn’t need all those promises to react.
would you believe /accept “Mommy if I give you my allowance and keep the house clean and behave will you take sick kitty to the vet?”
Lena
posted October 2, 2007 at 1:49 pm
Ditto to Nancy’s comment above,AND to Lena’s! Also, Therese, keep in mind that oy’s not our WORKS that gain us entry to that “Ice cream Parlor in the Sky(No disrespect intended), iy’s our FAITH. That was Christ’s whole purpose here on earth! If we had to EARN our passage into heaven, NO ONE
posted October 2, 2007 at 2:00 pm
I accidently hit the POST ICON BEFORE i WAS FINISHED! (Beg pardon). I suspect the reason that both the examples in your wonderful post made it to the Happy place. And God was the only one ever required to sacrifice His child in his divine plan. don’t forget that he even released Abraham from his directive to slay Issacby providing a ram at the last minute. There’s no way the kind of bargaining prayers you so eloqurntly shared hold any sway with our Father, although I’m sure every parent of a sick child has prayed them at one time or another (Even if less well worded) God has ALREADY provided the ram for each of us in the person of Christ Jesus; our only requirement is to believe and accept his gracious gift! Perhaps in his wisdom, He realized thar for many of us that would be the most difficult part of all. especially those of us who have such finely honed inner critics that spend every day of our lives reminding us of our unworthiness. Hang in there, Therese, and Thank you for sharing even the very personal fear of losing your daughter with us in such a way that it can be inspirational to the rest of us.
posted October 2, 2007 at 9:30 pm
Hi Therese,
I sank in the blue every now and then….reading your article brings cheerfulness to me…you have a gift of writing…God bless you…
posted October 2, 2007 at 11:24 pm
Re – “Dear God, I can’t say that I like today’s reading in Luke … about the rich man and the poor man, Lazarus, who sat at fat daddy’s door devouring the banana peels and chicken bones falling from the feasts of…”
Did you ever get the thought that the two Lazarus are the same. And if that’s so, did the resurection come after the other story, as a “Life After Life” sort of thing. One of the things I found out is that the Bible in not in chronological order. It is as if the entire Bible was schuffled like a deck of cards, perhaps to hide secrets that some would take advantage of for personal profit. Also, the best Way to hide something is right in front of your face … “I will place scales over their eyes, and they will not see the Truth, until the proper time”… Could this time, be the proper Time ?
LUV 2 ALL
Wisdum
posted October 4, 2007 at 11:10 am
Quit crying and do something for the less fortunet!
Mark Of The Beast
posted October 5, 2007 at 10:08 am
Therese,
In one of the paragraphs, you described how something in you felt like you could make a difference. I want you to know that you have – in a BIG way! I love reading your articles. I cry and laugh at the same time. I finally feel that there is someone else out there like me, who understands. I also suffer from bouts of depression, have two young children, suffer from MS, and feel compelled to be perfect. And, unlike the rest of the world around me, feel that life can really suck!
I am surrounded by upbeat people and people who claim that their life is just perfect. Words like “quit complaining” and “be positive” drive me crazy!
I am so grateful for you. Thank you for your wonderful articles. They keep me going each day!
(Please add this to your self esteem file)
Jen
posted October 13, 2007 at 12:33 pm
I agree with Jen’s comments, Therese you do have an amazing gift!
But disagree with Jen’s “I am surrounded by upbeat people and people who claim that their life is just perfect. Words like “quit complaining” and “be positive” drive me crazy!” If she asked these upbeat people, they would probally tell her that thier life is not perfect, that they have many problems that seem overwhelming to them also. Life is hard, at times scary and painful. How we approach the trials and tribulations in our life often, in my experience, will determine the outcome.
I also occasionally get “blue” and have faced my share of difficulties in the past and am confronted with difficult challanges currently. But we can’t get trapped in that negitive feed back loop.
God loves us.
posted April 23, 2010 at 11:06 pm
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posted July 8, 2011 at 3:22 pm
The best and only answer we can get for all suffering and battling in this life is that all things Good and Bad, fair and unfair happened for His glory alone, we question and never understand, that is why He is God and we are not, I just can know that He’s by my side every second of my life on this earth. I am a daughter of the King of Kings walking on earth until He comes to take me to my real home! May the peace be with you.