Dear Heavenly Friend,

I still have no answers from You about the direction You want me to take. Of course, You had me writing a fiction book about the future of the world. I can't even figure out your will for me much less the whole world. Yet I find myself asking You to give me answers to both. In the meantime, You have brought me to Your feet. You have asked me not to worry about anything. Even though I have bills I can't pay. Even though there are lives I can't save. Even though I can't even visit my sister, who may never get well again, whom I may never see again.

Dear Friend, I have asked for work I could do from home so I could care for Lisa. Where is it? Why have You sent me no helpers? No donors? Why am I like a ghost to everyone? Why when I turn to people for help do they ignore me? You didn't make me to be a fundraiser, Lord. But You said there were many members in Your body. Some of them are healers. Some are fundraisers. Where are they? I've not received a single donation on this web site. Why does no one call attention to it? Why does the world continue to insist that I have to do my own fundraising? That I have to go out and work 60 hours/week away from home just to still not even be able to pay the bills here?

All-Powerful Friend, All-Loving Caring One, I asked You to touch my wife and heal her. But You did nothing. I cried out to You but You didn't answer. I know You are there. I am not angry at You. I praise You in all things. I don't understand why things are as they are. I want Your direction in my life. Maybe it is my fault. But You don't even grant me that. You say nothing. You do nothing.

Yet I know that every breath I have is from You. Yet I know that every instant the universe doesn't collapse is because of You. I know that You haven't and never would abandon me. You have placed me here in time and with all these odd and sad circumstances. I am just asking You why. You are my best friend. You have declared Your love and good intention for me, not by my merits, not even by the degree of my remoarse, but because of Your own good heart. So why do You do this? If I was being tested like Job, what is the point? I may be so bewitched and beleaguered that I am sometimes numb, but would my feelings about You ever change? How could they? I ask You to please take all this calamity away.

Perhaps, You cherish my time with You more this way than if I prospered. You anticipate the infinite permutations of possibility and choose a course for me that is a part of what brings all things together for maximum good according to Your artful design. I don't even seek to judge that. I only wonder why when there are thousands of people who could afford to help us out of this dilemma that none do. Would I not be of better benefit to my community if I could contribute me time, my writing, my talents?

Good Friend, You didn't prosper THE GUIDE or LIFT or HANDS. Yet, daily I lift my hands to You for guidance. And these are what You presented to me. These reveal my heart. Would not one person of means see these things and be a philanthroper? Will You not bring the brothers and sisters that would comprise teams of Your choosing so that these visions can come to fulfillment, rather than remain as pipe dreams in my heart? Are You waiting for Your return on this earth to implement them? Do I have to see the tribulation first?

Until then, I remain a fiction writer. And even in that I ask for Your words. Do not let me write anything of my own. Be my author. I offer my hands to You, my fingers, my mind, my heart, my love, my time, my body, my health, my money, my worries, my work, my family, my church. I give them all to You, Lord God, for blessing, for power, for goodness, for testimony, for authenticity, for epiphany, for rhema, for salt and light. Be incarnate here, Lord God. I am dead. Be my life. Holy Spirit I am unworthy, but thoroughly desparate for You. Come.