I had a youth pastor friend once.
I said I didn’t know how to pray,
And he told me to think of Jesus
As an empty chair or maybe even a trusted pal.
He said to talk to Him like He is
A buddy or perhaps my best friend.
The problem is I don’t talk to my friends
With the reverence and sanctity the Lord demands,
And every prayer ends up the same way:
“Hey man, can I ask you an honest question?”
“Can you believe this horse shit?”
“Guess who fucked up again.”
“Will you help me fix this goddamned problem?”
“Check this out,” I say
As I show Him something I am proud of.
I used to chuckle under my breath
When people would say “Abba Daddy,”
But maybe there’s a point to earnestly seeking
The assent and approval of your old man.
Hell, maybe there’s no wrong way to talk to God
When trying to tell the truth
About the trials and tribulations of life.
