I call you El, because it is also my name. It makes me feel like we get each other. I know you get me, which is crazy because I don’t get myself that much, and I get you even less. But I do share your name. That gives me some comfort. Comfort about life.
I often don’t ask of you a lot, because I believe that you know me better than I know myself, and you know what you are doing with me.
I have faith in this.
And in my quiet moments, I always feel your presence.
What I do ask of you, Lord, is understanding. Let me understand life; mine and that of others. All life.
Why, Lord? Why this entire edifice? What is it about us that made this necessary?
What is it about you that you want us to understand?
How does a reckless fool like me learn wisdom?
I love those parts of the Bible where I am told that you speak with a still, small voice. Like I said, I’ve often found you in the silent places of life, in the face of those experiences which we can not put into words.
How do I stay there?
I know that we do not die at them, but until we die, am I ever going to understand?
I am full of questions, some of them so impossible to put into words that I must pass over them in silence. I trust that you understand.
I need you to help me make things clear.