BY TAMMY HENDRIX as told to
CHARLOTTE SCHNEIDER

R. GOD, SIR, THIS IS TAMMY. I'M 6 years old, and I don't know much about You. But that man, Mr. John Paul Jones, who sold us our house, takes me to church and talks about You. He believes You're real, and I'd like to think so, too.

Mr. Jones preaches at the Church of Christ. I don't know why it's called the Church of Christ when he talks about You, God. Maybe You have two names.

My dad likes this old house with its 20 acres, because he has lots of room for his animals. Dad loves animals. Mom and Dad always talk about how much room they have, but to me, this house is big and scary.

I'm talking to You because I'm scared. I had a bad dream and woke up with shivers and can't go back to sleep. So if it is OK with You, I'll just talk to You awhile.

God, this is Tammy again. I'm 8 now. Some things have changed since I talked to You last, but the scary house is the same, and I still have bad dreams.

Mr. Jones stopped taking me to the Church of Christ, but the Zurchers, who live down the road, took me with them to the Mormon church. Sometimes my brother and sisters go too. This morning in Sunday school our teacher taught us how to pray. I'm supposed to start with "Our Father who art in heaven," and end with "in the name of Jesus, amen." There's a middle to it, but I can't remember the words; so I hope it's OK with You if I just say the beginning and the end. I like the "art" part because I love to draw. Maybe I'll be an artist when I grow up.

I like the Church of Christ better than the Mormon church because of the potluck dinners. I love potluck dinners. There's always lots of food, and everyone is happy and smiling when they talk and eat.

I also learned You're everyone's heavenly Father and that Jesus is Your Son. I know He died on a cross, but I don't know why.

I also heard that You watch all the children. I guess You watch all the children because they never seem to do anything right. I heard that You keep track of everything I do wrong and that angels put it all in a book.

I yell at my brother and sisters sometimes. Does that go into Your book, too? I really do want to do better, so if I promise to try, will that be good enough? Maybe You have a book for good things, too. A promise could go into that book. And I love You; that's a good thing.

Oh, and I also learned not to call you Mr. God, Sir; it's disrespectful. I don't know why. "Mister" and "sir" in the same sentence are very respectful here on earth. And even though I learned that You're everyone's heavenly Father, I sort of wish You belonged just to me.

I have a Bible now. A nice person gave it to me, and I sleep with it because it makes me feel close to You. In the name of Jesus, amen.

Our Father who art in heaven, I haven't been able to sleep at all tonight. Everybody went to bed and left me sitting here. I decided to clean the kitchen, but now it's finished, so I'm just lying on the couch.

I have a question: Is it OK if I pretend I'm adopted? I look like my parents, but I'm different from my whole family. I do really well in school, and I love to read and dream. I like being alone, and that's not easy with all the kids running around the house. I want to be somebody someday. I want to go to the faraway places I read about in my books. I want to have adventures and speak other languages such as Spanish and German. I don't feel that I fit in at home, and I don't fit in at school, either. I'm as smart as the "in kids" (You know who they are). But I don't dress as well as they do, and I'm the tallest in my class. Nobody wants to be my friend.

I get attention by drawing really nice and practicing my handwriting. Yesterday I tried so hard to write like Julene Miller that I accidentally copied her name on my paper instead of my own name.

Mr. Grove, my teacher, saw it and told everyone in the class what I did. I was so embarrassed.

I wish my family was different. I'd really like a family that spends time together. I'd like it if we ate at the table instead of in front of the TV. And I wish we could spend one day a week together doing something that's fun. In the name of Jesus, amen.

Our Father who art in heaven, it's me again. Today I turned 12, and we all got to go to the Chuckwagon for dinner. I love the Chuckwagon because I can always have all the cottage cheese I want.

I had another bad dream tonight, though, and I'm scared. I woke up and it was dark, so I went downstairs and tried to wake up Mom. I wanted a hug and a kiss, but she wanted to sleep. She told me to go back to bed and try to sleep.

I don't know what to do, God. Mom is really hard to live with. I think it's because of the five of us; she told me we drive her crazy. Sometimes I think I want her to die, but You know when I was 9 years old she was in a car accident and almost died. I promise I won't ever say it again. I really don't want her to die; I just want her to love me a little bit.

I have to keep the house clean and help with my brother and sisters. If I don't do something, I'm in trouble. If I do what she wants, it's never good enough. I know Mom and Dad are always tired. I get tired too, sometimes. As the oldest, it's my job to take care of the younger ones. But the only way I can get them to do anything is threaten them with the broom. In the name of Jesus, amen.

Our Father who art in heaven, it's July, and I'm almost 14. This will be the last time I talk with You. The worst thing has happened. Mom wanted the house really clean, You know, company clean. Aunt Midge and Uncle Ernie were coming for dinner. Mom told me it had to be finished by the time she got home from work.

I guess I worked my brother and sisters too hard, because Denise tried to run away. She packed a suitcase and ran into the neighbor's pasture dragging that big old suitcase behind her. Dorthea ran after her, crying because her twin sister was leaving without her. I had to convince her to come home. A clean house wouldn't matter much if the twins ran away. All of us ran out to the pasture and finally caught Denise, and it took us a long time to convince her to come back home. By the time she agreed to come home it was too late to clean the house very well.

Questions for Reflection or for Use in Your Small Group 1. What do you remember about your first realization of God? Who was primarily responsible for how you imagined God is like? 2. How has your understanding of God evolved over the years? How did your concept of God change as you reached different stages in your life: childhood, teens, young adulthood, etc? 3. Identify one--and only one--of those who helped you formulate your perception of God over the years. How did that person reveal God's character to you? 4. Which of God's attributes are most consistently reflected in your life? Why those in particular?

Of course I got into trouble. I ask every night for You to forgive me, and every day I fail again. I know I'm a sinner, but I don't know what to do about it. I'm not even sure I have the right to say "our Father." I think maybe You're "their Father," that I'm so full of sin You can't even like me.

I'll miss talking to You, but I hate my life, and I know I have to quit bothering You. Goodbye. In the name of Jesus, amen.

My dearest heavenly Father, I love You with all my heart. Are You surprised? Well, I'm 21 now, but it isn't just age that has changed me. Six months ago I was baptized. I left You, but You never left me. You gave me all the things I didn't have the sense to ask for.

You sent me to Tektronics to work when I was 19 and put two other girls my age in the same place. One girl, Rhonda, was a "Spirit-filled Christian"; the other, Cindy, a Seventh-day Adventist. They both asked me to go to church with them, and I knew I would prefer Rhonda's church because I love music and they sing wonderful songs. I didn't feel comfortable with their church service, though, and I was disappointed.

I went with Cindy to her church, too. I knew deep down inside there would be nothing there for me. I thought they would be wearing long, drab dresses and the church would have bare floors, hard benches to sit on, and no drinking fountain.

I was shocked when I walked through the door. Plush red carpeting! Pretty dresses! Hats! Purses! Cushioned pews! More than one drinking fountain, each with icy water available at the push of a button. The reverent service impressed me, and when the entire congregation knelt to pray I knew I was exactly where You wanted me to be.

Cindy invited me to spend the day with her and her family. They treated me like I belonged. We talked while we ate together, and they answered my questions about Adventists and explained parts of the Bible I never understood.

Because they had an interest in me and spent time with me, I eventually joined the church. My life has become filled with caring people who invite me to their homes. I am involved with typing and printing the bulletins, choosing songs for the service, and teaching youth and young adult Sabbath school classes.

I also know now what to do about my sinful self. You have forgiven all those bad things I did and will remember them no more. I understand what Jesus did for me when He died on the cross and that You Yourself belong to each of us, so I can say "our Father" and be content.

Heavenly Father, giver of all perfect gifts, I will pray often, but it will be different now.

I am married and have two beautiful daughters. I'm going to share You with them, make certain You are a part of their lives, a kind and loving part. I came to Arkansas two years ago and have transferred my membership to the Little Rock Seventh-day Adventist Church. I jumped right in and started working for You.

I want to tell everyone that fellowship is a key ingredient in church growth and that inviting a visitor home for a day of conversation, dinner, and learning is a lasting gift for everyone. I want adults to remember the children, those who are eager for that something that is unknown; that something that brings love, peace, and sweet dreams.

Children should also understand that You are a loving God who hears everything they tell You. I think You smiled when I called You Mr. God, Sir, because there are some things in this world only You and a little child can understand.

For all those nights You sat up with me and listened, for all the people You sent into my life, for all the times You stayed even when I left, for all the happiness I now have, this child--Your child--thanks You.

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Tammy Hendrix (right) and Charlotte Schneider live in Little Rock, Arkansas