A letter from God during Eastertide

Why my child, do you live as if I did not understand your life?
That you are scrambling, anxious, frantic, sleepless?

Did the sun not rise this morning?

And when you least expected it, a reprieve or a kindness came?

Or did you fail to notice how the birds sing despite the heat and the infringements of their habitats?

As the world careens towards its implosion, the prime of my creation will suffer the most, while the rest of creation will do the best they can — hunting, mating with flair and flourish, resting and repeating it all over.

Men and women will do far worse. Some will no doubt plod on, even doing their utmost to avert catastrophe and inject goodness into the decay. But most will be out for themselves, heaping hurt and scars on souls and all forms of terrain, physical, psychosocial, and eternal.

My child, I am not at all blind to how the world is. My son, Jesus, the Christ, came to live like one of you. He had a human body that was tired, hungry, stirred and tempted. He had the full range of emotions and he had plenty of expectations from all rank and…