Until the day I die and find myself striding purposefully over the threshold of the pearly gates with a bone to pick, I will never understand why God won’t get with my program.

I wrote this song about it today because I was in my feels about it BIG TIME.

And I’m not trying to trivialize the emotions present in me and this tune by starting with this jaunty intro—because I know those “forgotten child to Father God” vibes are real to me and a lot of other people.

In general, a lot of us feel like somehow along the way God lost our application we filed in a timely manner for all the things we truly want.

(And if you feel like God’s special blessed one, well CONGRATULATIONS I HATE YOU).

The rest of us feel like, welp, here we are, day after day, stuck on a treadmill of just trying to figure out the next mediocre step to take that probably won’t lead to much while we’re stuck in a purgatory of disappointing things that we don’t love. (Or, like Eleanor Shellstrop said about hell: “I knew this was the Bad Place! And clam chowder IS disgusting! It’s just hot ocean milk with dead animal croutons!”)

Even when you’re working on gratitude and seeing the good and being thankful for sunsets or whatever, you can still be bummed and befuddled that God doesn’t seem to be answering those big, huge, heart-filling dreams you have.

You can like things about your life and still be sad.

You can appreciate your freedom and still want partnership.

You can enjoy the apple pie your friend baked while you’re visiting with her and then spend a good hour on your computer paying off credit cards and crying because those savings were put away for your dreams and now you have neither one—dreams OR savings.

That was me this morning. Just watching sweat-and-tears money swirl down the life-toilet for the past 4 months as I look for jobs and get shut down and try to figure out WHAT I can even DO with my abilities to MAKE THINGS WORK, already.

I don’t know if there are any answer to this question. I sure haven’t found it yet.

But if there’s one thing I learned it’s that you gotta feel it out when you’re in that space. So I walked around for a good 30 minutes ranting, and then I wrote for a good 30 minutes ranting, and then I wrote this rant-y song.

So here we are. There’s no up-swing, orchestrated or sustained note of hope to this one.

I’m not currently holding my breath for answers—but somehow I know I’ll still keep asking, all the same.