Father?  You’re still there…..yes?  I sit a little tired, a little worn, the restless angry fight spent.  I’m so broken, God; so messy, so petty and petulant.  Sometimes I’m weak and make choices that spin out tentacles like a crazy light show out of control and they spark and snap.  Sometimes I’m strong and good and walk worthy.  Often I’m wrong, times I am right; then times I am right and wrong.

 

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Truth is, God, I march myself into the courtroom, all puffy and peacock like, and justify myself with spittle flying out the sides of my mouth, my eyebrows raised for effect.  I. Am. Me.  I proclaim.  Here is my evidence.  I scramble for collected grievances; life’s documentation that it is hard and it is confusing and it is long…..no matter how short it is;  Proof that it hurts and I need the purchase order to buy myself the win.

Oh but then?  After my own echo dies down and I lie listless?  My heart hears a hopeful wind breathe gentle.  You’re here.  I can feel You.  Be my lantern, my compass.  I’ve somehow lost my way.

 

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