Dear God, please help me forgive that girl I hate so much. Please help me be the bigger person and let go of my anger and hurt and hate towards her. I know to forgive is divine, because you said so in the Bible, so please, help me forgive that girl I hate so much.
While you’re helping me forgive her, could you maybe lay out some of that cosmic heavenly justice on her mean ass? I mean seriously, she’s just mean. There isn’t one single nice bone in her body. She just did everything she could to make me and everyone in our group miserable, and she chased away some of my best friends, and I tried to be nice and to win her over with love and understanding, and then she would just stab me in the back again. And again. And again. To the point I’m afraid of her now, always, looking over my shoulder when I leave work, jumping at unexpected sounds, wondering if she or one of her redneck posse is waiting around the next corner to cut me or stab me or shoot me.
So since the Bible also says you are a Just God and a God of Vengeance, couldn’t you just throw down a major lightening bolt and blow her ass completely off the planet? Wouldn’t that be just? You turned Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt just for looking back, surely what this girl I hate so much has done is much, much worse.
Wait, even better, don’t make it fast. No lightening bolts, nothing that easy. Make her die, but make it hurt. Make it take a long time. Make it an extremely horrible, nasty, painful type of cancer or virus that can’t be treated. Make an extremely sweet nurse tell her “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the doctor says you’ve been on so very many ill-gotten prescription pain killers these past years, he can’t give you anything more for the pain. You’ve built up a resistance, and there’s nothing left to give you. Here, chew on some ice chips and see if that helps. Bitch.”
That’s it, God, make her die and make it hurt and give her no relief and keep her totally aware of the pain and the fact that she’s dying. Then send her to hell and let her relive her death over and over and over, knowing how many people hate her and that nobody came to her funeral except maybe I came by afterwards, very late in the evening, and I poured a quart jar of my own urine on her grave. Make sure she knows I did that.
But please, God, while you’re doing all that, please help me learn to forgive her for being the sociopathic lying evil Bitch that she is. Time heals everything, and I’m sure, as time goes by, after she’s dead, I’ll slowly be able to let go and eventually, finally be able to forgive her.