The Humbled Meek

I'm watching the God channel late into the night because I can't sleep and I need reassuring. This is not reassuring. Slick white men and power-dressed power-hungry women reel off God's spiel, enticing me with their all-beckoning drawl to swallow their answers and assurance, their guaranteed twelve steps to heaven. They know the Truth, they own the Truth, and heck, they sell the Truth. They have websites on the Internet, and after their names, after their names they have the word 'ministeries'. That's a long word, so they must be legitimised. They wear shiny shoes and $50 haircuts and their teeth are white and their clothes aren't creased like my clothes get when I collapse at two am on the floor sobbing like a goddamn son of a bitch because of this hole, this black empty hole of despair, that rises up and drowns me when I am alone in the dark, and I have to put the tv on and watch it for a while to calm myself down. They have gold watches and use words like prosperity and blessings and showering of gifts for the faithful and I want those things, but I need Faith, and To Believe, and all I have is Fear. And if I have Fear, if I am Afraid, then I Do Not Know God, and I Do Not Love God, but for a limited time only, if I call this number and buy these cd's then I can get a free book. And this book will Make Me Love God, because I Must Love God because God is Good. And it makes me choke, it makes me choke. This is salvation of the fittest and it leaves me cold.