Ghost in the Machine

I was quite sleep deprived last night. You know the kind of tiredness where everything blurs and you can’t even tell the difference between days. Before curling back under the covers, I decided to pray so I can have a peaceful sleep and have the energy to continue going through another day.

I started to kindly beg God to make my life a little easier. This is what praying is, right? Kindly begging. It is not easy on the ego, I must say.

After submitting my requests to heavenly father, I fell asleep. But not long after, minutes maybe, I woke up to the pounding footsteps of my neighbour. Boom. Boom. Boom.

I wasn’t even angry at them. I was pissed off at God. I was laying there thinking, for once, I prayed for real. I needed you. And this is what you do? I was feeling betrayed. Like I opened up to him and he just used that moment to push me even further. I considered cursing God and giving up the whole charade of creator and faith business and never looking back.

I murmured some complaints, then I passed out.

And next morning woke up from what might have been the best sleep of my life.

So now I wonder, maybe God isn’t the sweet, cosmic nurturer we like to imagine. Maybe he’s more close to the old, faulty, sadistic Jewish desert god. The one who sends plagues, asks for sacrifices, and gives you unimaginable tests until you have noone left standing besides you. It would make sense if this God rewards threats and not tenderness.

Maybe he only cares when you yell and threaten him. Maybe he doesn’t love himself so when someone is tender, he feels they are faking it. Sounds like man, doesn’t it?

I’m tempted to play this game with God. So tonight, I’ll pray again. But this time, I’ll be waving my finger at him and tell him how big of a disappointment he is if he can’t grant my wishes.