Are you there, God? It's me, Matty

The other night God and I had a chat. Well, no. A chat suggests two people talking. I didn't hear any response to my questions.

I was asking, maybe demanding, that God be there for some people I know who could use him. (I use he and him just for simplicity.) More than me.

I know you are thinking "more than Matt," is that possible?

It is. I like to whine and gnash my teeth, but I'll be OK. I know I will survive what I can and figure out what to do when I face something else. My life is rarely easy, and that pisses me off no end. But I can take it. I suspect that after the despair and pain, or maybe even in the depths of them, I will laugh and I will have family and friends who make sure I do.

I am sure that my friends can take it, too, but I don't want them to have to. Because of Friedreich's ataxia, I expect my life to be fairly miserable or at least really hard. Life should not be like that for others.

God better be helping my friends, so I can get back to feeling sorry for myself.