God and I talk;
We have conversations over text,
emails,
letters.
I pray, and he receives it.
God tells me he will fix my issues,
And the issues get fixed,
but not from his doing.
I fix my issues myself,
blood,
sweat,
tears,
hope.
And I cannot complain to God, because my issues are now fixed.
But I know it was not him, for it was me.
My work.
My problem-solving.
My answers.
I cannot complain, except
Now I’m left with the baggage, the bloodied tissue, the left behind mess from cleaning the issue.
God could snap his fingers and whisk it away, but
I fixed the problem, not God,
So I try to find a bin, to hide the mess, but I can’t,
The mess builds up, and it becomes my problem,
My issue,
So I call God.
God and I talk;
We have conversations about the mess over text,
emails,
letters.
I pray, and he receives it.
God tells me he will fix my mess,
And the mess get fixed,
but not from his doing.
And the cycle continues, but I cannot complain to God, because my mess is now fixed.
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 9:22 PM UTC
God and I talk;
We have conversations over text,
emails,
letters.
I pray, and he receives it.
God tells me he will fix my issues,
And the issues get fixed,
but not from his doing.
I fix my issues myself,
blood,
sweat,
tears,
hope.
And I cannot complain to God, because my issues are now fixed.
But I know it was not him, for it was me.
My work.
My problem-solving.
My answers.
I cannot complain, except
Now I’m left with the baggage, the bloodied tissue, the left behind mess from cleaning the issue.
God could snap his fingers and whisk it away, but
I fixed the problem, not God,
So I try to find a bin, to hide the mess, but I can’t,
The mess builds up, and it becomes my problem,
My issue,
So I call God.
God and I talk;
We have conversations about the mess over text,
emails,
letters.
I pray, and he receives it.
God tells me he will fix my mess,
And the mess get fixed,
but not from his doing.
And the cycle continues, but I cannot complain to God, because my mess is now fixed.
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