Because there are days when my heart feels too heavy to carry alone. Days when silence feels unbearable and my soul aches for answers. And in those moments, all I want is a direct line to Him. A number that would bypass my doubts, my distractions, my broken prayers. A number that would go straight to His heart.
If I Could Call Him
If I could call Him, the first thing I would say is, “God, I’m tired.” Not just physically, but deep down, in ways words cannot explain. Tired of pretending I am strong when I feel like I am breaking. Tired of smiling when my soul is crying. Tired of carrying battles no one else sees.I would tell Him about the struggles that have left scars inside me. The nights when I lay awake with thoughts too heavy for sleep. The days when I pushed through with a brave face while silently crumbling. The mistakes that haunt me. The failures that whisper I am not enough. The losses that left me empty.
If I could call Him, I would ask Him the questions I’m too afraid to say out loud. “Why does it hurt so much? Why do people betray the ones who love them? Why do dreams shatter so easily? Why does happiness slip away the moment I start to hold it?”
What I Imagine He’d Say
Sometimes, when I picture that call, I imagine His silence would be enough. Just the sound of Him breathing on the line would steady me. Just knowing He picked up, that He’s listening, would make my heart exhale.But I think He would say something too. I think He’d whisper, “I know. I saw every tear. I heard every cry you didn’t even speak. I was there when you thought you were alone. I never left. I never will.”
And maybe that’s the strange comfort in not having a number to dial. Because even though I can’t call Him the way I wish, somehow He is always closer than a phone call. Closer than my next breath.
The Struggles I’d Tell Him
If I could speak freely, I’d tell Him how hard it is to be human. To be misunderstood, criticized, and judged. To be loved and then unloved. To be trusted and then betrayed. To fight battles no one else knows about.I’d tell Him how often I have felt like giving up. How many times I whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.” I’d tell Him about the weight of carrying expectations, the loneliness of walking paths no one else understands, the silence that sometimes feels like abandonment.
I would tell Him about my fears. The fear of failing again. The fear of losing the people I love. The fear of never becoming who I was meant to be.
And yet, in the same breath, I’d tell Him about my gratitude too. Because even through the storms, I have known glimpses of love. Even in pain, I have found unexpected moments of peace. Even in despair, I have seen small signs that He is still near.
The Wish for 0244
The thought of a number—0244—stays with me. A hotline for broken hearts. A direct call when life feels like an emergency. A number you can dial in the middle of the night when you have no words left.If that number existed, I would call it every day. Not because God isn’t listening already, but because sometimes my heart longs for a tangible reminder. Something simple, something human, something as easy as pressing four digits and hearing His voice say, “Child, I’ve got you.”
But maybe prayer itself is that number. Maybe when I whisper His name in my weakness, when I breathe “God, help me” in my exhaustion, I’m already calling 0244. And maybe, without me even realizing it, He’s been answering all along.
What I Want Him to Know
If I had the chance to stay on the line with Him, I’d want Him to know that I’m not strong on my own. That most of the time, I’m holding myself together with shaky hands. That behind every smile is a story no one knows. That sometimes I doubt, sometimes I fall, sometimes I wonder if He’s really there.But I’d also want Him to know that despite it all, I still believe. That even in my questions, I still trust. That even in my brokenness, I still reach for Him. Because at the end of the day, He is all I have. And truly, He is all I need.
Emergency
Life often feels like an emergency. Fires inside the soul. Storms in the mind. Crashes in the heart. We rush to fix it ourselves, to find answers, to mend what’s broken. But deep down, I know my emergency call will always be to Him.Maybe 0244 is just a number in my imagination. But the truth is, He has always given me access to Him. I don’t need a phone. I don’t need digits. I just need honesty. I just need the courage to come as I am, broken and unfiltered, and let Him carry what I cannot.
So tonight, even without a number, I will call. I will call with my tears, with my whispered prayers, with my silence. And I believe He will answer—not always with the solutions I want, but with the presence I desperately need.
Because sometimes, the greatest miracle is not that He changes my situation, but that He changes me in the middle of it.
And for that, I will keep calling. Every day. Every night. With or without 0244.