Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit

-Hey… are you there?

-Always

-Ja!, yeah, dumb question… We haven’t talked in a while

- Yes

-Yes. To be quite honest, I did’t wanna talk to you.

-I know

-I felt you turned your back on me. It was a rough time you know. I mean, did I really have to go through all that? I still don’t get how that would make me a better person. The pain fades away day after day. But I’m still resentful.

-…

-Aha…? You don’t have anything to say…

-No

-You know, that’s another thing that gets on my nerves…your silence. When I need to hear you the most, you remain quiet.

-You don’t need to hear my voice to know I’m there.

-Well, it’s easy for you to say. But being through hell, and back, like I have; sometimes, in fact, many times, I wonder if you’re really there…

-Whenever you look around, I’m there.

-Yeah, yeah, the footprints on the sand, I know the story. You don’t get it. Sometimes faith is not enough. I’m just a human after all and I have just a certain level of tolerance to pain. You have the annoying habit of getting lost when people needs you. Why don’t you speak in despair, in sadness or in wrath? No!, we can hear you just when we’ve calm down. Well, you should think that over. Have you thought that one word of yours can take away all our demons?

-Then, how would you appreciate peace if you don’t know what your demons are like?

(This one is for you Mr. Fiore, so you can give the translator a break ;))