Friday, May 27, 2016

Prayer, May 11

My eyes are shrinking and my face is sagging. It is time for bed. But not before these fierce and stubborn blessings.

Sinned have I. Father me bless. You are the original Father, and the exceptional One: You understand Your children, always. And I need that. I don't understand myself. My room might be the top of a pyramid, sliding down from any direction. Only You know if this season is succulent or full of mold, but whatever it is, it's Yours. It's Your problem now.

As am I. Help me stop trying so hard.

Please, please comb through this head of tangles. Even if it takes all night. Even if my scalp gets raw, and bleeds, and I scare myself with my own neuroses. I feel You. You give me things I don't know how to name. You make the wisest psychology laughable. There is no other, there is nothing else.

Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.