A Letter to God

Dear God,

Today, while rested, I still feel tired physically. But my spirit is light and full of joy. I am so amazingly blessed to have everything I both need and want. I live in my dream house. I have a career I absolutely love – working towards having my dream job. I have friends and family who love and support me. I have an amazing dog who wants absolutely nothing from me but love. I have no more leeches, cheaters, liars, or users in my life. I have no need for completion. I am not lonely in, or afraid of, my life as a twice divorced woman. The only thing that would be more freeing is to debt free again; if I win the lottery, I’ll make sure that happens.

I guess my only question, God, is: if you truly have someone for me, how do I say “NO?” It’s not that I don’t believe in, or trust, You. I do. I do not, however, think anyone in my life would, or even could, love me to the depths, or with the fervor, which I love them. No one will ever be as thoughtful s I am – always thinking of me, wanting the best for me, wanting to ease my burden, or just wanting me to be happy for no other reason than to see me smile. And I’m tired of that – always being the one who is more invested in him and in us – always being the one sacrificing, going out of my way, or being inconvenienced. I give to SO MANY PEOPLE – so many. I just think my focus, my energy, my love, and my care is better in those that need me. That way, I stay responsible for filling my own tank. I don’t get let down or disappointed ever. And I don’t even have to care all the time – only when I’m working. I think that is all the capacity I have right now. 

I don’t need sex or money. I would have to have someone willing to work hard for me – to get my attention – to make me feel loved so that I want to love back. And he doesn’t exist.

Everyone and anyone can appear selfless in the beginning; it’s rarely, if ever, consistent. And it never lasts – especially if they are not getting anything in return. I just don’t have it to give. I’m thoughtful and kind by nature. I love to laugh. But most of all, I just like to BE – hearing another’s soothing heartbeat, feeling safe enough to let go and relax in his arms, breathing in his scent, feeling the warmth of his skin, feeling his breath on my neck or his fingers in my hair. Feeling like he would never let go if he didn’t have to – being able to just share space with me because I bring him the same wonderfulness he brings me. He would have to be a studied romantic – meaning he would read & research about different, unique ways to be romantic – not just do the easiest or the obvious. He would have to put in EFFORT to make sure I knew the depth of his love for me and not just assume I did. He would have to have passion for more than my body! Don’t get me wrong, he would need to be passionate and adventurous, while also gentle, compassionate, and dominant, during sex. But sex cannot always be the go to! Because what happens if one of us can no longer perform sexually? There MUST be intimacy like no other – where nothing has to held back.

I used to say my husband did NOT have to be my best friend. After being married & divorced twice and ending up wishing I could talk to my husband, or immediately knowing I would never talk to him about something, I have come to realize that I want, maybe even need, my husband to be my very best friend. And I’m just honestly not sure that men are even capable, anymore, of being good friends first & foremost. Eventually, they all seem to start thinking with their dicks and that becomes their most important damn need – no matter what else is happening in the world.

Nobody talks anymore. Nobody shares their deepest, most authentic, true self anymore. We’re too afraid that it won’t be good enough. I’m not eye candy to one guy [to whom I would’ve given my whole heart, albeit undeservedly] and I’m hot as hell to another guy because I do “have meat on my bones,” and get this, was NOT wearing heels or being frilly. 

But would either of them know that I miss my daughter and that I am terrified that the next time I see her, she’ll be in a coffin? Would either of them know that I work so hard because I feel the weight of God’s calling on me 24/7/365? Would either of them honor that and bring me dinner or appreciate having a quick cup of coffee with me instead of adding more pressure to my fear of failure by constantly saying, “You never have time for me”? Would either of them know that I feel imposter syndrome just like everybody else at times? Would they realize that I get tired of hearing, “That’s what happens when you’re good at what you do”? Which one would be willing to lay in bed and watch Marvel movies – allowing me to doze off and on and not be frustrated? Some will play golf. Some will not. But none of that matters if they neither know nor understand me.

Lord, I just don’t see that happening. I don’t believe they genuinely have the desire to know, the willingness to learn, the energy to try, or the selflessness to look outside themselves. I can feel the depths of other people’s souls – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the amazing. But men NEVER EVER seem to see, or feel, that I am an incredible gift from You, Lord, to so many – but to the one with whom You would have me. So, we can move on to something else. Please. I’ve had my fill. I know I’m loved by MANY. I know I am EASY to love. But the risks no longer outweigh the benefits I’m afraid. Can we please just focus on my dream job and making sure that I am always financially secure and able to pay my bills with a cushion left over each month? I don’t need any more trips [currently]. I don’t need anyone to share my space. I just need a steady check (and benefits), from an NFL team, that truly represents my professional value, a beach in my backyard, and a consistent five figure balance in my bank account. You’ve prepared me, as best You can, for Your will in Zari’s life and my Daddy’s life. Somehow I will survive those losses, whenever they come, because I know You will carry me through.

Thank You, Lord, for all the blessings You have bestowed on me. Thank You for my spiritual gifts. Thank You for trusting me to feed Your sheep. Thank You for allowing me to experience marriage and childbirth. If You never bless me again, Father, I have enough and I am enough simply because I exist. I love You, Lord; and I thank You for loving me too. Thank You for always reminding me that even broken crayons still color!