Still Typing

“God, Is There a Newsletter I Can Subscribe To?”

So the other night, somewhere between overthinking and reheating coffee for the third time, I found myself staring at the ceiling and muttering, “God… I’m gonna need a status update.”

Not a sign in the clouds.

Not a Bible verse that somehow always feels too vague.

I mean a real update. Like a newsletter.

A weekly divine digest.

Straight to my inbox.

With bullet points, bold headers, and an honest Q&A section.

Because right now? I’m out here navigating life like someone dropped me in the middle of a maze and said, “Just trust the process.” Sir, I am lost. The process has no signage. And I haven’t had cell service in weeks.

Imagine it though. A simple email, every Sunday night:

From: Heaven Help Desk

Subject: Your Week, But With Answers

• Monday: You’ll feel ignored. You’re not. I’m just teaching you to breathe before reacting.

• Tuesday: That door you wanted? Closed. You’ll thank Me later.

• Wednesday: Unexpected blessing. Look alive.

• Thursday: Be kind to that stranger. They’re carrying something heavier than you know.

• Friday: You’ll feel tired. Rest. Not everything’s about pushing through.

• Weekend: Stop spiraling. You’re not behind. You’re becoming.

And please stop asking for signs while ignoring every one I already sent.

—God

Tell me that wouldn’t save us all hours of pacing around the kitchen, holding mugs like they’re microphones and whispering, “Just give me something, anything, Lord.”

I mean, what are we doing right now? Hoping that a worship song hits different during the bridge so we can cry and pretend that’s our confirmation?

I’m tired.

I want tracking numbers. I want receipts.

I want to know that the prayer I sent up in March isn’t sitting unread in some spiritual spam folder because I didn’t format it correctly.

Better yet—give me a dashboard.

Something with tabs like:

• Prayers in Progress

• Miracles on Backorder

• People You’re Better Off Without (Yes, Even Him)

• Plot Twists Under Construction

Instead, all I get is silence. Holy silence. The kind that’s either deeply comforting or suspiciously quiet. Like when a toddler is too well-behaved.

I know, I know. Faith isn’t about updates.

It’s about trust. Surrender. Learning to walk without GPS.

But still… would a heads-up really ruin the plot?

Would it mess up the divine story arc if I got just one heavenly push notification that said, “Hey, I know it’s hard. But you’re not forgotten. I’m working while you’re wondering.”

Because on some days, the silence feels personal.

And I spiral.

I reread old journal entries like they’re court transcripts.

I start deciphering fortune cookies.

I Google things like “How to know if God’s ignoring you or just building character.”

But then, somehow—right in the middle of the doubt—peace shows up.

Not loudly.

Not in a newsletter.

But in something small. A text from a friend. A moment of calm. A deep breath I didn’t think I had in me.

And I remember:

He’s still here.

Still moving.

Still holding it together—especially when I’m not.

Still typing the next chapter, even if I don’t have the outline.

So no, there’s no newsletter.

No PDF update.

No “God Premium” subscription.

But there is a plan.

And it’s unfolding… even in the silence.