The Presidential Question
Dear Mr. President,
I'm sorry to say Mr. President that I cannot give you a selfie picture with God.
I know that at your age, that you may be nearing the valley and that is why you are asking for the improbable, despite the strong need to address other more pressing worldly concerns.
If I could, Mr. President, I would.
But that is beyond me.
I can understand how you may be feeling right now. When my grandfather was about to die a couple of years ago from cancer, on his death bed, he made one wish, "that he could be young again - like a child."
It baffled our family during a very difficult moment.
But we all knew, that we can never turn back the hands of time.
We could not time travel to fix regrets, correct some mistakes we did and alter whatever it is that we have decided, done or what has been done to us in the past.
And that's part of the beauty of life - and death. There can only be one time that we could right all the wrongs, and that is the present.
Nobody could ever convince you Mr. President, if there is a God or not. No amount of logic could erase all the pain, all the regrets and all the questions and doubts floating in your head.
As it is, Mr. President, the same question is being asked by any child who is begging for alms in front of a church. The same question is being asked by the families of victims unjustly killed by an unrelenting state. The same question is being asked by the poor and the suffering. The same question is being asked by so many.
I am asking the same question too, but unlike you, I do not have the power to stop the killings and the murder. My words, are of so little consequence that they cannot temper the actions of men. I have no men who follow my orders, Mr. President. I cannot order anybody to, "Feed the poor. Clothe the naked. Love the unlovable. Stop the killings and bring justice for all."
But you have, Mr. President. You have that power.
Right now, a daughter is grieving the violent death of her father. She may be asking, "Where is God? Where is justice in all of these insanity?"
No righteous answers are given to her, Mr. President. Only words of pain, condemnation and anger.
"Your father was a drug lord, he has to die." is a sentence that keeps repeating again and again in her mind as they bury the dead tomorrow.
Words can bring life, justice, love, honor - but they can also bring death, destruction, pain and agony.
And tomorrow, these are the words that will be spoken:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord Forever.