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I'm Sorry, Jesus

Oh, Jesus, Lord in Heaven, I am sorry for the many sins that I have committed. I will try to do better in the future and will work to be an upstanding member of your community of faithful followers here on Earth. I am sorry that I don't eat right, Jesus. I often choose fatty desserts, even when a healthy alternative such as fresh fruit cup is made available to me. I routinely choose regular dressing when guilt-free low-fat ranch is among my possible choices. Although I have no weight problem, the pressure to do the right thing is overwhelming.

I am sorry that I will often purchase unrecycled notebook paper because I prefer the bright white color. I do the same with paper toweling and napkins, ignoring the glare of the trees featured prominently on the other package. I am sorry that I hide these products from my friends, so they don't think I'm a wasteful monger.

I'm sorry, Jesus, that I sometimes throw plastic bottles out without washing them and placing them in the recycling bin. The bottles even say, "It's our world—let's take care of it!" But sometimes I am late for work, and I just toss them out. I'm sorry, Jesus. I know you are disappointed in me.

Dear Jesus, I am sorry that I missed the CBS special about gang violence last Tuesday. The commercial said, "If you care about youth today, you will not miss this very special made-for-TV movie." I do care about youth, and I missed the movie anyway. What good am I, Jesus?

I am sorry, Jesus, that when I drive I sometimes speed. I have no regard for the safety of others. And I am even sorrier that I do not ride the bus. I know they say "Public Transportation—It Only Works If You Get Into It!" I'm sorry, Jesus, that I don't get into it, but I work all the way out in Cedar Grove where there is no service.

I am sorry that I think bad thoughts about people of color. My parked car was hit by an Asian woman and I had some very nasty thoughts. I also get into arguments from time to time, with my husband, who is black. I feel incredible shame about the socioeconomic stratification of this country and the fact that I can do nothing to solve it. I'm sorry.

I am so very lowly, Jesus. Every time I go to the bank, I see the sign that says, "You could be earning 2 percent overhead with a gold passbook account. Why aren't you?" And I have no good answer. I'm sorry, Jesus. I just never take the time.

I am sorry that I do not call my grandmother more often. MCI makes it possible to call the ones I love and get up to 40 percent off my bill. I am low, Jesus.

I'm sorry I rarely check my shampoo for the "not tested on animals" logo. I've seen the posters of the injured bunnies. You must be very, very disappointed in me, Jesus. I am sorry that I enjoy the taste of meat, Jesus. I'm sorry about the whales, Jesus, and about the litter that I sometimes throw on the highway. And I am sorry about the colonization of the New World.

I am sorry that I am not always happy, Jesus. Brightly colored posters have to remind me that, "It's a Rainbow Day!" and to "Smile!" But even then I do not always do so. I will try to be a better person, Jesus.

I promise.

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