Breaking up with God

I don't want to be one of your strongest warriors anymore.

I mean, I know it's supposed to be an honor,

That I should feel anointed,

But it's starting to feel like one of those things you say to make people okay with being dealt a shitty hand,

Like "things could be worse" or "every cloud has a silver lining".

Can I ask you a question, God?

I mean, am I allowed to ask questions,

My Sunday school teacher hates when I do that,

But tells me that you are loving and understanding and don't make mistakes,

And that brings me to my question...

Are you punishing me on purpose?

Did I do something wrong?

Because I could forgive you if crushing me with misfortune was a mistake,

The way my mother tried to do before she left my father when his mistake of infidelity became a habit.

You gave me a mother who showed me to give all the chances I have but also taught me to walk away when you don't get an apology or changed behavior,

And I haven't gotten either from you.

What I mean to say is that sometimes I think this life you planned for me is a joke.

Like you and Jesus and Gabriel sit in some writer's room in Heaven and fuck my shit up for entertainment value or for the plot.

I know you've known this conversation was coming.

My pastor says you're omniscient and that you know every decision we make before we make it,

So I know you're not surprised...

Which brings me to my next question.

Am I not worth saving or pursuing?

If you're there and you care,

Is a grand gesture too much to ask to prove your love to me?

I know the sacrifice of Jesus was supposed to the gesture, but sometimes it feels more blackmail than baptism.

I mean, you designed me and you know I'm a skeptic, an overthinker.

You gave me a life that would teach me all the signs of gaslighting and narcissism,

So I'd think you can't blame me for recognizing those things in you.

And maybe it's the Christians.

Maybe it's the you that white people created and killed for.

Perhaps there is some version of you that I could love,

But not this.

Not now,

Not after everything that's happened.

In school I learned about this thing called the Bystander Effect.

It says that people are less likely to help in a crisis if other people are around.

I guess I just thought you were above that.

They say you used to be above that,

At least when it came to wiping out an entire city for homosexual activity and killing almost the entire world's population in a flood.

It's hard to imagine whatever was happening in Sodom and Gomorrah was more shameful than American slavery,

Or that whatever sins on the earth that justified a mass drowning was more disgraceful to your name than Leopold II of Belgium destroying the Congo and its people for rubber and riches.

It's hard not to take your silence these last few thousand years as an admission of guilt, so...

I'm done, God.

If you want me back, you know where to find me.

I won't wait for you, though.

After all, I've been begging you to save me for years and you've never come before,

So I definitely don't expect you to now.