To:

Dear God,
And I mean that in a letter sort of way. I wonder how many of the people that start their prayers that way are referring to you as a dear person, someone who is dear. It probably started out as an imitation and made its way into habit, but these days I always tend to think of my prayers more like letters. Or emails. Which makes digital prayers all the more appealing.
Anyway, I was getting hammered at the bar with that stuffed pheasant in a glass case the other night night and we started talking about religion and how hard it is to be spiritual without some sort of organization attached. (This was fairly early in the night) You probably don’t remember because you were too busy being disappointed in me, but if you were listening, you would recall that I feel very lazy and guilty about my spirituality lately. Nothing makes any sort of sense and my Bible props up my box fan (from WalMart, no less!). It’s hotter than Malawi in here, so at least the book’s serving a purpose. But still, that thick layer of dust is distracting me. It’s disconcertingly similar to the dust on all those other books I bought off Amazon one night in a fit of agnostic anxiety.
I spend my Sundays, a day which used to be pretty strictly regimented, watching Rocky II, drinking soda (caffeinated!), and checking my MySpace. At no point in my day do I even consider thinking about You. Honestly. And I guess that would be fine, if I tried that kind of thought on any other day of the week. Or, man, the month.
I guess that’s all. I figure figuring something out might be important.
Amen.

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