Pain-Killer Laments

It all stopped working God…

(What a dirty trick!)

 

For so long, these pain-killers did their job.

I confess…

I loved them!

I loved the numb.

I could breathe.

 

A little at least.

Little seemed better than not at all, right?

 

Then one day they just stopped.

Stopped doing their job!

 

I confess God, I loved not feeling.

I loved just floating.

To not feel the weight of my chains, even for a few hours, was such a relief!

Now, that’s gone too.

Now, no matter what I do. I feel. I see.

 

And worst, I think!

Oh, what a blessed relief it was, not to think!

 

I suspect You’ve something to do with this!

Not bad enough You’ve brought me here.

Now You’ve taken away all anesthesia.

 

Now I see myself as I really am—this fruitless tree!

Isn’t that an oxymoron God?

A fruit tree with no fruit?

 

Couldn’t You have just let me be?

Was it so much to ask?

 

Never mind.

Your silence is my answer.

Oh God!

This pain! This throbbing, pounding, relentless pain!

 

Wasn’t it enough that I hate this place?

 

Do I now get to hate You, too?

The DREAM-MAKER’S Promise:
The Caterpillar’s Prayer:

An “awful grace” isn’t that what the poet said? Yes. I don’t know anymore about grace Father, but if this pain is a grace? It is certainly is an awful one!

How does one thank You for an awful grace? How does one bless with so much anger in their heart? How does one breathe through the smothering black clouds of pain?

(I confess… I do not know.)

Jeremiah… at least you understood what I am going through. At least God has given that grace—an understanding heart.

I hear your heart cries from centuries past, and they reach me here… right here, in these ashes of mine, and I know that I am not alone.