dear god it’s me again

it’s february and i can’t tell
where the grey horizon ends and
the grey sky begins

(i can’t tell much of anything anymore)

i heard a song today about how
“this is my father’s world / why should my heart be sad?”
and well, have you seen your world lately?

there’s a lot to make a heart sad

we have all these songs and prayers and candles and poems about
hope and healing and all shall be well but

it’s february and i can’t tell where advent ends and lent begins
i can’t tell much of anything anymore

do you have any idea how impossibly impractical
hope is?

dear god i have a love / hate relationship with
(well, everything these days)

but specifically the gospel because
“all shall be well” feels less like

a fragment of light on the horizon and more like
a fragment of shrapnel in my gut

it aches

do you have any idea how impossibly impractical
the gospel is?

how the hope of resurrection sounds less like
a promise and more like
a taunt

when I see
kids with cancer
moms with broken hearts
dads who just disappear?

dear god you know i’ve prayed all the prayers a
thousand times and still the sky is grey and cold and

what if prayer is just a coping mechanism for a hopeless world?

what if all this is just
something  to keep us busy while
our lives slip through your fingers?

dear god

[ image: Theresa Peek ]