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.
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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