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I find myself staring into the ceiling these days, looking for it to say something or maybe do something. I often lie in my bed through the night, praying to you God, but do you ever help? No, not yet. I think to my self that you’re letting what’s happening for some reason. Maybe it’s to punish me, but may I ask what I have done? Was it so bad? Do I deserve this? I do not question you god. I can only hope that you make me stronger, so someday, when he hits me, I will be able to fight back. But until that day comes, and you chose to help me, I will hide and pray in fear. I read your book god, and in it you tell me to believe in you without proof, believe in you without reason; believe me- I have. You speak that with great faith, in the end- good will come. You ask us to put you before anything and everything. We sacrifice for you, people have died from believing in you, and I just don’t understand, maybe it’s because I am but a suffering mortal, stupid and frivolous, but even so, I ask you one question. Why is it right for him to put these bruises on my face? You say to honor thy mother and father, I unquestionably do, but would it be so wrong for you to ask of them the same? Would it be so bad, if he honored thy son! Children are young, weak and find life through their parents. In your book it tells me about family, how we should live and die for our own true blood. If this is so, then how do you all such bloodshed? God, if you ask of us for so much, why in this time of great need can you let me suffer so. I’m not questioning you, but please my Lord- tell me why I must lie here bleeding my last breaths, left with nothing, but to die?