How to say this: There is nothing that I cannot do. There is not one miracle that I cannot create. I create life. I create beauty. I create land and sea. I create and recreate love. And, yet, I, God, do not fulfill everything you ask, no matter how deeply you desire it. I do not customarily raise the dead. I do not grant all your wishes. I may not grant half of them. Nor, when you believe you need Me the most, am I always there or, sometimes, it may feel to some, that I am never there.
How can that be? How can I let you down in your moment of need? How can I let you, My favored child, down at all? This makes no sense at all.
To some, it is as if I don't care about you. To some, it is as if I abandoned you, or I do not exist because you are in a mess of one kind or another. From your perspective, it is not easy to understand. It may be impossible to understand. It is truly beyond your understanding.
If you see Me as an indifferent God, a heartless God, how can I, God, then be a God of Love or presume to be? Would not a God of Love lift you up and save you from whatever you yearn to be saved from? When it comes to what sinks your heart right now, all the saves from the past fade from your view. "What about now, God?" your heart cries out.
It is not that you are ungrateful for all your blessings. Yes, yes, you are grateful, yet right now you are fearful. You try to feel: "Thy Will, O Lord, not mine," yet you can't quite get there. When you feel that the ground has been cut from under you, you wonder in dismay: "Where are You, God? Where is Thy compassion? Where is Your spoken-of caring for me? And not only for me but for others and others worse off than I, even though I may feel at this moment that no one is more miserable than I am as I sink at your feet, God."
You may believe deeply in My existence, and yet feel forlorn. How can you understand any purpose for such grief or fear or disaster that you feel right now? You would love to take Me on trust, and yet you can't quite. How you would love to. How you would love to have such faith.
You don't want poetry. You don't want to hear that life is like the waves of the ocean, furling and unfurling. You don't want to swallow that there is no death, for, in this lifetime, you have died a thousand deaths of one kind or another, a thousand deaths of hope. You have met disappointment, sometimes brutal disappointment. You have led a good life. You have given service to Me and to the world. It's not that you were looking for recompense, yet you were not expecting that I would forget you.
Here's where We are. Here's the pickle We are in. I understand you. You want to understand Me. I cannot explain to you on any level understandable to you. Words that can give you the understanding you crave do not exist. I would use sign language if I could. I would make a movie if I could. I would grace you with understanding that would erase your tears if I could. Just as you would understand if you could, so would I give you the understanding you crave.
Meanwhile, I smooth your brow, can you feel it? Meanwhile, I take your head between My two hands, and I look deeply into your eyes. From the depth of your eyes, I see Myself in the form of you asking what I already know.