Letter Twelve, in which I deal with my existential crises by letting God off the hook because God never asked for this.

Letter Eleven, in which I deal with my existential crises by wondering if I’m simply talking to myself.

Letter Ten, in which I deal with my existential crises by wondering if I’m fishing.

Letter Nine, in which I deal with my existential crises by almost sounding grateful. Weird.

Letter Eight, in which I deal with my existential crises by complimenting God’s plagues, pondering the effects on my lawn, and wondering if what we really cause or don’t cause.

Letter Seven, in which I deal with my existential crises by suddenly realizing that none of my suffering matters, or, potentially more frightening, that my unrest might be the very point.

Letter Six, in which I deal with my existential crises by starting to acknowledge that God might have bigger fish to fry.

Letter Five, in which I deal with my existential crises by wondering if persistence is always the best course of action.

Letter Three, in which I deal with my existential crises by contemplating how frustrating it must be to watch my life knowing all the right answers.

Letter Three, in which I deal with my existential crises by struggling to come up with things to tell an omniscient being and question the results of a church that claims to be the one, true denomination.

Letter Two, in which I process my existential crisis by some how getting grumpy about resurrection and renewal. When will it be my turn?!

Letter One, in which I process my existential crisis through questioning God’s plans as revealed through country music.