A Conversation with God for my Lil' Lisa

A Conversation with God for Lisa

Author’s Introduction. I wrote this piece after reading a single sentence posted by my friend Lisa while her father was dying of cancer: “I’m going to miss you, Dad.”

This poem is a raw, honest, sometimes angry, sometimes humorous conversation with God about grief, love, and why loss hurts so deeply. It reflects how many of us question faith, fairness, and meaning when someone we love is slipping away.

This is written for Lisa, and for anyone who has ever loved someone through their final days.

Content Warning. **This piece discusses terminal illness, death, grief, and emotional distress. Reader discretion is advised**.

A Conversation with God for Lisa

Written for my friend Lil Lisa.

Always in my thoughts. Always in my heart.

For my friend Lisa and in memory of David.

I love you

I hurt for you

xx

I had a chat with God, and it had been a long time.

He knows I was very, very angry at Him.

Here is our conversation.

Dear God,

I checked on Facebook this morning about my friend Lisa, to see what was happening with her dad.

As you know, her dad, Dave, has been fighting cancer for a while now, and it has been oh so very, very hard on her, her sister, and their family.

I read where she posted one sad, lonely sentence:

“I’m going to miss you, Dad.”

I want to ask you why.

Why have you created such hurt and sadness for people to lose their loved ones?

Can you give me a “please explain”?

Kindest regards,

Tee

Well, good morning, Tee,

Fancy running into you on here. It’s been a long, long time since you bothered to talk to me. But I understand, truly I do. We all get busy, and I also neglect my people sometimes. It can be very tiring!

So, you want me to answer a question. Why have I created such hurt and sadness for people to lose their loved ones?

Dear child, I do not create the hurt and sadness you feel. That is of your own violation. I created free thought, and what you do with it is yours.

I really hope you come to my Home and visit one day in the distant future. Your friend Lisa’s dad is a good friend of mine. He called just before and said he would be coming soon. He just wanted to wait a little longer downstairs to make sure everyone was okay with his decision to leave after this battle he had.

He wanted to watch for a little longer, to give comfort to his daughters and their families, as most do before they enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

Cheers,

God the Father

Dear God,

Well, as YOU know, I don’t get angry too often, but today I think you have pissed me off a bit. I am not very impressed.

You have hurt my little friend Lisa and her family. Why would you do this? Why before Christmas? You did the same with my father. What’s your problem?

Do you want to take this outside?

Here, Lisa,

hold my McBeer…

In respect,

Tee

Dear Tee,

Oh my goodness, you are still that fiery little girl who used to hide under the steps at the Catholic Church and twang people’s ankles with elastic as they walked up the stairs to attend Mass, aren’t you?

How you made me laugh and laugh. Some days, I laughed so hard there were terrible earthquakes and tsunamis.

But back to what I was saying. There is no need for the hurt and the pain, for Dave has finished using the 1.0 model, and I have designed him a 2.0 model that is all the more better.

He will be on his way to it at a later date, and he will be watching little Lisa and the family very closely. He will also be creating more happiness for more people in need.

Don’t you see the cycle of life?

I think I wrote something in Matthew or Luke. Here, you hold MY McBeer while I go look for it…

Till later,

God

Tee,

I am back again. It didn’t take me long to remember. I just had to kick some socks and Ford car things out of the way. I have no idea who left this old tractor motor thingy here. I am not a mechanic — I am a carpenter. Did you know that, Tee?

Oh, I guess you would. You went to Little Flower School and St Mary’s School. I am sorry for that. Some of those nuns were really mean, but I digress.

Now, what was I saying? Oh, that’s right:

Psalm 73:26

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

John 11:25–26

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Now, Tee, as you can read very well, do you understand?

Lisa’s dad Dave — his flesh was failing, and he believed in my word. So he will live forever.

Tell little Lisa her dad Dave will never truly die. He will be held in everyone’s hearts and minds and remembered forever. He will be here waiting for them in the very distant future.

For this is the way it is now and forever.

This is the word of the Lord.

(And that’s me, Tee, if you want to know.)

Dear God,

Stop being a smart-arse.

Come on, don’t piss in my shoe and tell me it’s raining. I want to know why you put everyone through the hurt and pain???

ANSWER ME!

Tee

Oh, my dear girl,

Now you’re pissing ME off.

Can you not understand? I know it is hard, but please try.

I only let the good people come to my Kingdom — the ones who are strong enough to stay for a while so their families can love them a bit more. It’s not to hurt them, but to help heal them.

Imagine poor little Lisa if I just snatched her dad one night and whisked him off. The whole family would be in crisis mode.

I discussed this with David. He told me he wanted to do it this way so he could love on all his daughters and the family just for a bit longer.

Do you see, Tee? I give people choices. Not like the lucky barrel raffle at the pub — you don’t get a choice there — but I give everyone a choice.

Seeing David took the hard way, full of pain and hurt, he gets the luxury penthouse suite. He also has a massive big farm, full of equipment and machinery as far as the eye can see.

Because HE DESERVES IT.

I am so proud of Dave and his composure during this time. It was his choice.

Please tell little Lisa this. Give her a hug from me.

David will be arriving soon, and I have a hell (cough) of a lot of socks here to sort, separate, and fold before he arrives. I believe they are his. He seems to be moving in already.

Glory be to the Father (that’s me),

and to the Son (me again),

and the Holy Spirit (whoops — yes, ding ding ding — ME AGAIN).

We really are a friendly mob here, and Dave is going to fit in so well. He can see his fambam anytime he wants.

And you can tell your friend, little Lisa: when she talks to her dad, when she calls on me, we will always answer her. For we are always with her and her family.

Best wishes to you all.

See you guys in another 50 years.

Over and out,

Yahweh (aka God)

© Teena Quinn, 2020