Light at the End of the Tunnel

God, worship is not the same anymore.

Trust you? Want to, yes.

Lip quivering, uncontrollable, asking why?

Where were you on that night? Alone.

Believing in you with everything in me.

Chasm holds me breathless, wondering.

How can He be both?

Strong and mighty, silent and distant, true?

Impact, loud and crashing, looking from above.

My babies, crushed, bruised, hurt.

Silence. Stillness, Smoking cars. Shock.

Retreating into distant lands inside my head.

Don’t open eyes, too scary to admit.

Pretend it never happened. Surely?

God is my protector, still.

Trust He is good in blood, fractures.

A fractured picture, a fractured faith, broken.

Questions?  Where are the answers?

Mama is gone, no one.

Who do I ask to help me?

Family, nowhere. My children, can I see?

Medical. Doctors. New faces, all.

Can’t move my neck.  How?

Where is the manual? Can’t even write.

Friends so close.  Friends who walk away.

Life never the same, now.

Didn’t ask for this switch.

Can only move forward, but some don’t.

That morning bleak.  Army boots in sight.

How can this be? Cries.

He, in so much pain

Mother cannot solve, can only reach, suffer.

It is here.  Where are you, God?

How do I do this?

Don’t know what to do.

Helpless, suffering, it is here, O God.

Raw emotion. Why did you leave me?

Touch this stone, bring life.

Heal this place, lonely, forsaken?

Am I, Lord?  Touch and heal.  Coagulate.

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