Something a little different for today’s God and Suffering story: a friend from church sent me a ‘stream of consciousness’ post, very journal-like, written in a time of depression a few months ago. He described it as both a prayer and: “articulate crying, with the same therapeutic value as actually weeping.” It is so raw and beautiful that I asked his permission to share it. Over to John Jordan:
I cry for help, but no one hears. My voice echoes around the lonely hills, before it is lost in the wind. I scan the bleak horizon in the perpetual twilight and see no one. I cry bitter, lonely tears that go unheard.
I have been on this path of sadness too long. Scanning the bleak landscape for a clue, a beacon to guide me, but all the hills are the same. I strain my eyes in the twilight to find answers, but see nothing but the ghostly shadows of an undefined darkness that I am unable to identify. I wonder if it is too awful a truth for me to know.
I have met some strangers on my journey, and I rush to meet them. I ask the question; why? They look at me and do not answer. It is as if I am speaking a foreign language. I have met those who know the landscape, and I ask them for directions. They are professionals that know the lie of the land. They give advice on how to find a way out, but their directions send me in a circle, back to where I started.
I have called out to the almighty God for relief, and have wept in His presence. I have begged Him for answers. It is as if He is listening impassively; saying nothing. In reverence to Him I console myself with, “Who am I, a mortal creature to question the wisdom of the creator God. I wait on Him”
I am tired of it all. All these long years, I have had hope, a hope that burned in the darkness like the puny light of a hurricane lamp; a candle. I have sheltered the flame from the wind. Now the fuel is running low, and the flame is flickering, sputtering, threatening to die.
I am tired of it all. I fall to the ground, spent, and exhausted. I lie impassively, and without fear as the undefined darkness comes over me. It seems logical that I should let the darkness overcome me. I have been running too long; “You win!”
Over the wind I hear a song. A song that drags me back in time. I am looking at my baby daughter. I then see her as she is now, smiling, holding my Grandson. I know that she loves me, I know my wife loves me, I know I have friends who like me. If I give up, it will hurt them all. They will grieve and blame themselves. I love them all too much, so I struggle on; Living for them, and not for me. They do not know how hard it is or they wouldn`t expect it of me.
As I lie, exhausted, and without hope, I wait in the lonely darkness for nothing, because I have learned to expect nothing. I will just carry on like an exhausted soldier on a speed march, the voices of others, like corporals, calling, threatening and cajoling.
All that I have left in all this darkness is the faith that God will ultimately protect me from the undefined darkness. I will wait on Him.
John Jordan is a writer based in Devon, currently working on his memoir.
Over to you:
- Have you ever found writing to be like ‘articulate crying’?
- Have you ever prayed in a similar pattern to this writing?
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