God, can you hear me?
          I wonder if you can sometimes because I find myself calling out for help. I don’t say this to seem ungrateful or that I don’t believe in you, because I do. Or at least I think I do, because quite honestly I don’t know what it is I believe in or if I can even call what this is “God”.
          I have never been sure about many things but one thing I have always felt right about is that everything happens for a reason. I say it so frequently that it is my response to almost anything that doesn’t feel quite right.
          When something goes right, “everything happens for a reason,” but most importantly, when it goes wrong, I hope and pray to you that it was for a reason. 
          God, how do I pray to you?
          I find myself confused. I lie awake, unable to sleep, yet not concerned about it, and I begin to think of you.
          If you’re real, I wonder what it is like to be worshipped as you are. I wonder if you know how many wars the different versions of you have caused, and I wonder if you know how the very idea of you has healed the souls of millions.
          God, sometimes I believe you are inside every single one of us. 
          I sometimes wonder what religious people really believe. If the rules they follow really bring them any joy. 
          God, do you care about these rules?
          I also tend to wonder if you know how deeply I feel. I wonder how deeply you feel. To hear the prayers, hopes and dreams of every single believer. Or non-believer on a rough night.
          When our prayers are answered, God, is it our own growth and motivation, or did you grant them for us?
          God, to me you are no genie. God, to me, you are an enigma. A wild wonder.