Cornell: I just don’t get it, God.
God: What don’t you get?
Cornell: My life. Why does it have to be so hard? This is so unfair.
God: What do you mean?
Cornell: You wouldn’t get it. You’re God.
God: Why do you think I won’t get it?
Cornell: Are you deaf? I said it’s because you are God!
God: Since you put it that way. I guess I don’t get it…
Cornell: See? I told you, you wouldn’t get it.
God: Yeah. You’re right. I don’t get how God can’t get something His own creation and child is going through.
Cornell: I am not in the mood for another mind-game right now. I have bigger issues to discuss with you.
God: What big issues my child?
Cornell: Like how my life is so hard. How I can’t stop sinning. How I keep messing up.
God: Why are you discussing this with me?
Cornell: Because you are God!
God: But you said I wouldn’t get it!
Cornell: I didn’t mean get it, get it. I meant that you can’t feel what I feel. You can’t empathize with me…
God: Then why are you talking to me about this? How can I help if I can’t relate to your pain as you’ve said?
Cornell: I don’t know. You’re God. You figure it out.
God: So, in other words, you are saying since I am God, I actually get it?
Cornell: My head hurts!
God: Okay then. Let me see if I can “feel” you. “Empathize” as you said.
Cornell: Don’t trouble yourself. I just want you to take the pain away.
God: My child, have you ever been blamed for something you didn’t do?
Cornell: Countless times.
God: So have I. I have been accused of being a self-righteous law-breaker. A glutton, even of being the devil himself!
Cornell: You don’t say?
God: Oh, yes I do say. I have gone hungry. I have lost close friends to death. I know what it’s like to weep at funerals.
Cornell: Have you been reading my diary?
God: I wish my family took the time to read mine. I have been exiled from my home. My own blood brothers have been at the forefront of those calling me a lunatic.
Cornell: Get outta here!
God: That’s exactly what they yelled at me the last time I left home to start my ministry. Though I used to go back there in the evenings, it was never really home. You’d be right to call me homeless.
Cornell: I am sorry.
God: Don’t be. At least not yet. Because it gets worse…
Cornell: What could be worse than being called a homeless lunatic and being disowned by your own family?
God: Child, have you ever felt like quitting?
God: Me too.
Cornell: Drop dead!
God: How did you know? Because that’s exactly what happened that night; I was beaten up, spat on, and tortured… but no, I didn’t drop dead. It was worse. I hung dead… on a cross.
Cornell: Why in the world would you let that happen to you? You are God! You could have defended yourself! Why? Why would you allow this?
God: Why IN the world? Because you, my child, are IN the world. And I wanted to know what it’s like being you.
Cornell: I mean why… why would you do this? Why would you die on a Cross?
God: Because my child, I love you. Your sin alienated you from me. I died to take away your guilt, freeing you to be my child.
Cornell: I don’t know what to say.
God: You were saying something about life being unfair and hard…
Cornell: That’s nothing compared to your sacrifice.
God: But you said I wouldn’t get it.
Cornell: No Lord. I was wrong. You were right.
God: But I died for being right. Yet, here you are, living despite being wrong.
Cornell: I get the point Lord. You do get it. In fact, you got it more than two thousand years ago.
God: So, what can I do for you then, child?
Cornell: I think you’ve done more than enough. I think the right question should be, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU, MY LORD?
God: Now you get it 🙂
The point of prayer is not so much to get God to “get us” as in God getting us to “get Him”.
May God’s will, not ours, be done.
Cornell © 2009