"Dear God,
"When I stepped on glass and cried out your name, Emery asked me where you were and why you didn't come help me.
The only people who helped me back up were her and the school janitor.
I couldn't do anything but stay dumb.
And I wanted to cry.
Not because of the prickly pain I could feel on my leg, and certainly not because of all the blood that was pouring out through that cut.
You know why, God?
You didn't come.
"Mom said you help people every time they're in trouble.
Was there someone more important than me you had to save?
"But God, I call out to you every single day, don't I?
"So why'd you leave me limping instead?"
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YOU ARE READING
Dear God
Short StoryTo the world, I've seen you in distress. I've seen you trample over sands. I've seen you aim missiles. So when my cuts needed healing, I chose God over you instead. - An account of a childhood obsession that turned into a lifelong faith. - © 2015...
