A prayer

by M. Wilson

God, I am in the midst of a struggle.  I am unsettled.  I am longing.  I feel that I want to be some place else.  My old ways of avoiding have passed.  I don't want to run anymore.  There has been a change, a shift within me and I'm fighting to come out.  Perhaps I'm fighting to stay out.  My heart and soul is sad because I know something more.  It's not just that I am longing for it - I know it, feel it, taste it, smell it, and see it.  That is my faith. However, I feel delusional because it is not here and right now.

This change came quicker than the last one.  I felt like I just got through the last shift and here I am again.  You must be moving me along fast to get me in line and prepare me for something.  However, I do not know where I am supposed to step in and take charge and where I am supposed to step back and let You show me. 

I'm in this awkward embrace with Your will.  Don't go in too fast, stand too close, hold on too long.  However, my soul wants to grab it tight and fold into it.  Disappear into it and then reemerge spirited and shining and renewed.  Unwrap me to tangle me into the love and passion of my purpose and tie and bind me to those who are to share this journey.

My heart races in these moments.  My tears come quicker and feel warmer and taste saltier.  Dear God.  I am surrendered. Please, release me.  This caged bird is trying to fly.  I am singing my song from within, but the notes and the melody need to be carried out - they are growing in strength and bravado ... 

Lord, I struggle. Sweet, Father I struggle.

interrupted

by erin 

I walk around with an unspoken... 
grief? 
most of the time, unknown to me. 
Until, I walk into the kitchen to... 
what?
to do something...to get something... 
interrupted-
I stumble.
Where am I?
Why did I come in here?
For a mug? For tea?
No.
Why, then, did I walk into this room?
Full of purpose and knowing. 
Now I am here and words fail me.
interrupted-
and empty handed I stand still
waiting for it to dawn, 
reaching out for epiphany
and it is in this moment that the grief rolls in...
yes it does.
Tears seek my eyes, throat tightens its grip,
What is this sadness?
Where does it live?
In me?
I do not even remember what I lost
to cause such mourning,
which comes so willingly...
And then-
I remember!
That pesky grief crawls back
into its lonely room
to be born another day 
when I become
interrupted-
and stuck in time again.
interrupted-
when I am most vulnerable.
interrupted-
grief bears witness 
to my being stuck
in this imperfect state.

God, spare this interruption
and keep me moving on and on.
No need to remind me 
of my place in this paper thin world.