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Because God is not scared of my questions, my fears, my doubts, I will post this, praising Him that He is lifting the veil and holding me on dark days when I can’t see or hear.

Again to trace the form of words

across lined pages

while I stuff confusion into a small


Place it on the shelf

Turn off the light

Shut the door

Motions move me around my house

but is the heart of this home gone?

Has it spoiled?

raw, broken, bleeding, no longer beating

bled out

She bled out

She bled out

no pulse left

Her body now

given away

ashes in a box

and I stuff confusion in a box

place it on a shelf

Turn off the light

Shut the door

Part of me is sitting on that floor

beneath that shelf

beneath that box

my mouth is

full of sawdust questions

beginning with why

having no answers

She’s not coming back

Though I see her in dreams

She’s not coming back

Though I reach for her in sleep

I see her

so normal, just talking, doing, saying

so normal

as I sit on the floor in a closet

beneath the weight of my confusion

Though I’m moving throughout my


Is it still a home?

When I can no longer answer

Child’s questions

When I can’t tolerate the noise

When rationality seeps from every pore and there is nothing left in me

to give him

Though he wants to think

he wants to love

he wants to fix

(and I want to die…)


Girl, saved by grace divine

Loved by Creator Supreme

Omniscient, Omni-present, All-powerful

but He didn’t stop her pain with life

but death

and I am here

without her

and it’s wrong, but the part of me on the floor




just stop, stop, stop

but everything keeps moving

though I keep going slower

and stop. stop. stop…

This is not my life

with no impact discernable

no progress made

the wishful dreams

extinguished as smoke clings to curtains

and chokes me from breathing

and truth


evades my grasp

and run run run

little words hide away


The Savior is here, but my ears cannot hear


For further meditation:

Psalm 102, 2 Corinthians 4:16-18