Classic

Dear Lord

Dear Lord,

I'm sorry that I have sinned. I'm sorry that I don't come to you when I am happy or rejoicing. I've never been the type to sit in a church pew and sing hallelujah (do understand, I haven't had much to sing and shout hallelujah for). I've only come to you in times of pain, in times of weakness.

I come to you with my blood mixed in the glass of wine, with the bread of my soul baked in the fire of hell.

I don't come to you when I'm happy.

I come to you when I am weak. I come to you because you are strong.

I come to you when I'm down on my knees because it's the last place left to fall, with tears streaming down my face and a hole in my bedroom wall.

I throw that bible across my floor, cursing and screaming, thankful that nobody's home.

That's when my faith is weakest, brittle bones inside the body of a girl with nothing left to live for.

That's when my faith is strongest, a fighter with wings of soft feathers and hard cowhide.

I've fought and cursed and screamed in vain. He will never say my name.

Lord, am I doing the right thing? I'm running after something that was never meant to be mine. It was meant to be someone else's because someone else deserves it so much more. I do not. I am undeserving, undesirable, underachieving, underprivileged, underpowered, undertaken.

Lord, you're the miracle man, ain't you? Would you grant me one miracle, just one?

Let him live. Grant him forever.

I only come to you when there's no one else to turn to.

"And I came to believe, in a power much higher than I. I came to believe, that I needed help to get by. In childlike faith, I gave in and gave Him a try. And I came to believe, in a power much higher than I."

I'm slowly learning Lord. There's more to life than what I can see today. I only hope that you grant him to power to see that as well.

Sincerely,

Laila