Opening up the Conversation

Merciful One, I don’t know
if I have any business speaking to You.
Or if You’ll even want to listen.

But I pray —
oh my God, how I pray! —
that You will hear me.

I’m in a dark and lonely place;
I can see no light at the end of the tunnel.

I can’t even see the tunnel.

I am blinded by guilt and anguish,
tormented by sorrow and rage,
weak with fear, and near despair.

But not completely without hope:
for I lift my desperate cry to You.

I have heard —
and I hope it’s true —
that You are “merciful, slow to anger,
and abounding in steadfast love.”

After all, if You condemned
every shortcoming and sin ...
then who could stand?

Heaven would be empty
except for an honored few;
the rest would be lost,
not even our memories retained.

And You would miss us.

Of that I am certain.

I believe absolutely
in Your love for Your creation —
flawed and foolish as we are.

That faith gives me courage
to ask Your forgiveness,
to trust in Your mercy,
to rely on Your grace,
to believe that You can restore my soul.

I don’t deserve any of it,
that I know for sure.

I’m ashamed of what I’ve done,
and of what I’ve failed to do.

I could have done much better,
been kinder, more forgiving,
compassionate, loving and true;

and I’ve no one to blame but myself.

You shined Your Light upon my path,
yet I’ve routinely gone astray;
thoughtless and heedless and self-obsessed —
not the person I truly could be.

I’ve been a disappointment to You,
blessed Creator of my soul.

I was designed for greater things
to do good and not harm,
to bless and not to curse,
to love and not to hate.

I’ve messed up, and that’s the truth.

So here I stand, without excuses,
revealed for what I am:
sad and sorry and soul sick;
and yearning for Your healing grace.

And I wait.

I wait for the Lord, anxiously;
my soul waits, longingly.

My soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for the morning,
more than those who watch for the morning.