Faith (or fiction too)
I remember the day we lost our faith, it was during that split second God turned his face. We went to church, knelt to pray, and all we found was an empty space.
I bowed my head, steepled my palms, but my prayers were filled with a tempered rage. You raised your eyes, sighed your sigh, and looked for peace somewhere else inside.
Do you remember when we were young and filled with hope? Did you think you would bury two daughters. A husband. A son?
Sometimes I say we lost them, so I can finish the thought “At the supermarket” “the mall” “in the crowd”. God turned his face and we were all lost.
We buried them in unmarked graves. No money for rent, no money for head stones, we leveled the grass and went on our way. On Sundays we slept in for a change.
But we also tried to be perfect, afraid of an angry God, we thought we had been punished for everything ever done wrong and so we punished ourselves until we thought God satisfied, then you sat on the therapists couch learning to be justified. You, mother dear, rose from the depths sooner than I.
At night I crawled into the closet, shut the doors, lay amongst their shoes and cried into their coats.
I found my God on my hands and knees where all I could taste was regret and defeat. For days and weeks my wounds bled, my fears, my heartaches, my hatred. I took a shower and the tub turned red, combed my hair and found grey on my head. Old already at 23, I prayed for a God who would pray for me,fell asleep on cold bathroom tile and found a God that cried for me.
I remember the day I found my faith, I opened my palms to let go of my past and found I'd been given a future instead.
I bowed my head, steepled my palms, but my prayers were filled with a tempered rage. You raised your eyes, sighed your sigh, and looked for peace somewhere else inside.
Do you remember when we were young and filled with hope? Did you think you would bury two daughters. A husband. A son?
Sometimes I say we lost them, so I can finish the thought “At the supermarket” “the mall” “in the crowd”. God turned his face and we were all lost.
We buried them in unmarked graves. No money for rent, no money for head stones, we leveled the grass and went on our way. On Sundays we slept in for a change.
But we also tried to be perfect, afraid of an angry God, we thought we had been punished for everything ever done wrong and so we punished ourselves until we thought God satisfied, then you sat on the therapists couch learning to be justified. You, mother dear, rose from the depths sooner than I.
At night I crawled into the closet, shut the doors, lay amongst their shoes and cried into their coats.
I found my God on my hands and knees where all I could taste was regret and defeat. For days and weeks my wounds bled, my fears, my heartaches, my hatred. I took a shower and the tub turned red, combed my hair and found grey on my head. Old already at 23, I prayed for a God who would pray for me,fell asleep on cold bathroom tile and found a God that cried for me.
I remember the day I found my faith, I opened my palms to let go of my past and found I'd been given a future instead.
