I’ve carved a shadow in the mud
I’ve dug my reflection into clay
I’ve drawn Your image all around
Going so deep that water flows
A teary mix of a worn out soul
I am drained of sorrow.
I am drowning in “What if’s?“
There is no answer to the “Why, God?”
There is no sight in hopelessness.
Suffering, it never tries to make sense.
Although I long to understand,
I am at a crossroads.
It feels like life lost.
And I can’t mother it, control it, strong arm it, bend to my will.
I know You are with me, but still, I look for You.
I come to the house of prayer
And as they praise all around me,
Who can hear my silent shriek?
“Why God ?”
I rage, I whine, I complain , I cry, without a sound.
Yet, You hear me.
and you listen every time.
You turn my weeping into pools of awareness –
Even in my weakness, there is space for thankfulness.
So, I am emptying my vessels of bitterness, while wrapped in The Lamb of Suffering’s arms.
It’s time to clear out the anger.
A lifetime of praying and begging and hoping and pretending that everything is okay…
Saying , “I’d take it on , I’d give ____ up, if I could-
an impossible exchange; a weak bargain;
a desperate plea for unreality.
I cry like a baby
I question like a toddler
I rage like a teenager
I weep like a widow
But I don’t do it alone
You weave your presence into a blanket around me.
And you are not exasperated with my grief.
The Man of Sorrows knows how to comfort.
And You know….
You know what I need.
A Lazarus Resurrection
Mercy, have mercy.
Wake me in the morning.
Humble me with your newness.
Kiss me with your faithfulness.
Show me, that
All around me
A cyclone around me,
A storm of Divine certainty.
And, even though,
I’m standing at the bridge of death and life
I’m swinging over fear on the trapeze of trust.
Gripping , grieving ,
Not giving up ,
But Looking up.
Maybe, I can find a way across…
and crash through the roof of my despair
And, wreck the ceiling to bring us to healing
But here I am, hands still in the dirt.
Blood in, blood out- just trying to feel life.
My fingers are afraid in the soil.
But no one is as patient in understanding;
No one except You.
The Lamb of Suffering,
Can you give me faith like a child?
“God will make it ok,” says the babe.
God will help!
I wanna be like a kid wondering how the Pharisees didn’t believe Jesus.
But I’m gazing at the paths of bitterness and thankfulness,
Only one points to the bridge to faith.
The chasm from death to life.
I pause here.
There is no shame in my sorrow, my weakness, my hesitant hope.
There is space to suffer in your arms.
Because You are not just Joy, but of sorrow.
And you know what’s needed.
This cleanse must be done.
This clutter must be cleared
It’s time to pierce through the dirt,
To seize clay into hand,
To spit truth into matter,
And smear it over my eyes.
And my sight that hopelessness stole away
Relieves the blindness in my pain
And I can see…that my greatest grief….
Has been my fear; my unbelief.
Please help my unbelief.