In my twenties I said to God:
“I can’t stand it when I don’t feel Your love.
It’s horrible, depressing, I ache and . . .”
He interrupts,
“Would you rather be tortured
starving homeless crippled abused
blind or terminally ill?
“But Lord”, I say, “that is exactly what it feels like.”
God sighed,
“My son, what do you think brings me closer?”