I’m done God
Done with my hands
Done acting like prayer is anything less than a declaration that I can’t do this
I can’t. Between regret and hopes and doubt and joy and fear – I can’t.
And you see me – right now as I’m penning these words or as I’m coding these words.
I’m needy. You are God.
I don’t have a list because I don’t know what I need.
So here, hold this real quick and let me just peal back my flesh you patched on me as a boy. There – see all that stuff inside?
Help. I need help with tomorrow, today and my choices of yesterday.
I don’t know. I can’t even ask for the right box because I’m not sure what I need.
I need you – and your peace and your steadfast shoulders.
Catch these peeled back layers.
I’m done – God. Completely done.
This is where you do your best work though – right?
I hope those stories are true about people being at the end and then you made a beginning from the frays of dusk.
I hope but even that’s weak. I’m here – needy, and you’re on high orchestrating mornings and birds and lions food, and new babies.