When I finally make my way,

Crawling,

Grasping, 

Lurching this skeletal life forward,

Plummeting, 

Collapsing, 

At your feet-

Would it only be then that you can’t deny me?

 

When I take hold of your robe-

Not for healing but for a glance;

A glimpse 

Jerking you towards me so that I will not be ignored

I have screamed,

And cried.

Whispered utterances that were so clearly scattered aside

“As if my worship in the wilderness,”

“Were like a pungent stench to your nostrils.”

 

My tears

Only being used to dampen the towel

You wipe your mouth with.

 

After consuming 

All of my pain,

Making sure you have enough room

To enjoy more of my sufferings

“They all look to me for encouragement, 

For words of wisdom to prepare them for days

Such as this.”

 

But I have nothing to offer.

My lips sewn together,

Through the stitching 

You give me coarse sand

To drink

They’re still looking to me,

Drooling with anticipation 

Throwing down your Word

At my feet

Expecting a miracle

To fly up from these pages

And cut loose my hands, currently bound

But no such thing happens

 

Instead, I am blinded

By empty passages and love letters

Not addressed to me.

 

I have been gutted

And emptied

Left only with my thoughts

That sneer and tease

As what’s left of my faith

Puddles sloppily around me

Causing me to sink and melt

With no eyes to see

Or mouth to plead

I am left only with ears

Straining

To hear anything I recognize 

Anything I’ve missed

But I hear silence so deafening 

Thunderous defeats

As my body wretches from side to side.

What is there to give?

When everything has been given?

What is there to hope for

When all prayers have been thrust afar?

What is there to cling to,

When all promises are broken?

What is there to do if I don’t recognize

Who you are?

—

Writer Bio:

Kristina Rivera is a writer based in Chicago , IL. She is a breast cancer survivor that is passionate about professing God’s goodness through suffering and creating safe spaces for women to congregate and share their struggles. Writing helps remind her that although life is hard and unclear, God’s love is never failing and she hopes to encourage and embolden others to believe this as well.

Photo by Leah Kelley on Pexels.