My dear Lord:
I am so terribly sorry.
I beg you, in all of your beauty, glory and infinite compassion, to please forgive me.
I was feeling old and vulnerable on my birthday, and I guess a little bit angry, too. I am ashamed to admit that I took to the drink, and it was in this state– drunk and childish– that I lashed out at you, implying that you might be ugly and gay.
Oh, numinous father, I am so sorry.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
You are beautiful and straight and omnipotent.
I felt particularly hideous yesterday, but figured it was probably only a hangover, but when I stepped out the front door and a dead pigeon fell on me from the sky, well, I knew that something was up.
There was the scent of divine retribution in the air.
And then, in front of the corner store where a lot of the high school kids hang out, Tim and Darlene, who normally only make me buy them Red Bull and smokes, were particularly aggressive. My Lord, they taunted me quite ruthlessly, and made me buy them each lotto tickets( $10 ones!!) on top of their normal shakedown haul.
Moments later, I got my finger stuck in the mailbox, which made me very vulnerable to Tim and Darlene, who threw pennies at me from across the street. And Lord, I couldn’t help but notice that the year on one of the pennies, the one that hit me in the ear, was the same year that I was born.
Lord, I knew then that you were speaking to me.
It was clear that my letter had hit a raw nerve with you, and I felt immediate and profound regret for my writing it. God, you know what you’re doing. You’re clearly at the top of your game and I bow down before your majesty. I am grateful to you for the life you’ve given me and for baseball, and I am so sorry for my letter. It was Satan speaking, God, the Devil climbed inside of me and made me write out those awful things.
I have sent a $20 cheque to the Korean Baptist Church on the corner, and am hopeful that will help clear up any misunderstanding that lingers between us.
God, you are the man and I love you very much!
Your servant,
Michael Murray
PS: By the way, it was an excellent touch on your part to get Rachelle to make me “Tofu Supreme Surprise” for dinner last night instead of Porterhouse steak, as I was hoping for. Well played, God, well played.