
I think God takes naps at 3 in the morning. It’s when I feel the most alone. The most broken. The most… scared.
I remember the morning I had decided I should die. That moment is a part of who I am today. I think Death stalks me now. It won’t let me forget. Every now and then it whispers, “How dare you beg for me when so many others beg for me to wait…”
I was careless.
The moon floats like a feather in the sky until 3 am and then it sits its weight on me and shines its bright light in my eyes. It interrogates me and expects me to speak for myself after stealing all my air.
I know what it’s like to have to answer for all my sins. I’ve had so much practice apologizing to God while he’s asleep. Maybe when death finally catches me I’ll know exactly which words to use.
I hope I make it through the pearly gates. Because I think maybe 3 am is what Hell is like.












There is, I’ve heard an opinion of some theologians that Hell is not a place of fire and torture, but simply being separated from the Divinity, exiled from the Light. That seems much like this 3 AM.
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It’s actually what I believe. There is no peace at 3 a.m. and there is an overwhelming peace when God is close. In my experience.
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I think all the great spiritual teachers would agree, that they taught how to not be in Hell in life, and when I see the faces of people consumed with envy, hatred, fear, and violence, they certainly look to me like they are in Hell. And it hold for depression too.
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I have always believed that hell is not a physical place as is the popular opinion. Hell can actually take on different forms, and it does lurk in the witching hour.
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