As many of you have noticed, I’ve been dealing with health issues. Which means, I am also dealing with spiritual issues. A friend of mine, poet John Thompson, call this a cathartic exercise in poetry, and that hits the nail on the head. I am a verbal processor, it’s how I work through things, how I find what I really believe to be true about God, about myself, about my purpose in thie world …

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Tonight, it’s too much.
I don’t want life to be like this.
Make it go away.

Whatever you have for me, God, I will enter into it:
               If it’s a shorter road to death,
               or a drawn-out journey,
               or healing for a time.
God, I know you are walking with me, carrying me, through it.
Always there. You are my refuge and strength.

But tonight, I am crying,
and sniffling and pacing,
and snuggling with our little dogs who are distressed by my distress.
Because I don’t want this!
All the things that I have seen and said, “No, please, Lord”
may be, could be, indications show that
these things are very possible scenarios.

So, I cry about things
that may never be,
all the while knowing God loves me,
and has a purpose for my life and my death.
He put me in this time and place, with these people, in this space.
God has promised to work all things together for the good of those who love Him.
and I do—love, believe, hope, trust in Him.

And I will get there again when my tears have run their course.
I will lay in my bed wrapped in God’s arms,
in a while, in minutes or hours,
safe and secure in the peace He is holding out to me right now
for when I’m ready.

But I’m not ready for it just yet.
I’m hanging onto what I want,
and what I do NOT want.
My foot is stamping,
The flag I’m waving says “don’t tread on me!”I’m afraid, and I’m sad, and that makes me angry.

But, not angry at You, God,
and that realization is puzzling.
Because you could, with one word, one thought, one tiny miracle
Change everything right now.
Me? I am clinging to my point of view for now
as a few more tears leak out of my swollen eyes.
Anger takes too much energy. Enough. I’m spent.

Thank you for listening, God, with loving patience.
I’m back looking at you.
and thank you for the signs you have liberally placed in my path
for the last days and months and years.
I remember them. Ebenezer.*

So I crawl into your lap now, like a child.
Trusting. Knowing. Giving up—all of me to you.

And your father arms hold me,
and your mother voice croons lullabies and strokes my hair.
And my Savior says, “I know just how you feel.”
And it is enough. I am Yours.

~ Kathleen Evenhouse, January 13, 2025

* Ebenezer: “Thus far has the Lord helped us.” 1 Samuel 7:12