Driving down the road.
Trying to see through a muddied window.
Swerving from side to side.
Man, what a bumpy ride.
The curves are so sharp.
I'm coughing on all the dust.
My eyes are tearing.
I try to pull over.
But somehow I've ended up in the ditch.
And I am halfway between nowhere and
nowhere.
Frustrated, I kick at the dirt.
I wipe the sweat from my brow.
Take a deep breath, and off I go.
On my own two feet.
Not knowing where I am going.
But that's usually the case with me.
I'm so hungry and thirsty.
As I look up and see the sun starting to go
down.
I begin to shiver.
As the the sky becomes blanketed by the
night.
I look at the stars.
Why do I never see a shooting star?
Now it's raining, "Oh, of course it is."
I grumble to myself.
With just a t-shirt and jeans I quickly
feel the cold in my bones.
The water pours down my naked head.
I spit it out of my mouth.
I am not happy with these circumstances.
Where is God, I wonder.
As I continue to wander.
Everything is silent except for the falling
of the rain drops.
I look up at the sky.
"God, are You there?" I whisper.
"If You could lend me a hand, I'd appreciate
it."
My head drops low.
Now tears are mixing with the rain.
I used to have hope, faith and love.
I used to be happy.
But life beat me to a pulp.
I took all my lumps and never complained.
I was always told i had to be a man.
And men suck it all up.
I tried to swallow it all.
But I always choked on it.
It always made me sick.
I never did understand what it all was
for.
I just knew I had to take it all.
I tried, I really tried.
I remember it all now.
As the tears and the rain continue to
pour down my face.
I shiver violently on the outside and on the
inside.
Then the rain ceased.
The tears continued to flow.
How could I have been so blind?
To let life get away from me.
But I was just not strong enough.
To keep it all under control.
I was a boy then, I am a boy now.
The boy now hides inside this poor excuse
for a man.
Just look at me.
A grown man crying like a little baby.
And it makes me so angry.
Why does it have to be this way for me?
I didn't choose any of this.
But here I am.
With a broken down car.
And a broken heart.
The car I can leave behind, but I am stuck
the heart.
The car doesn't hurt, but the heart sure
does.
I've grown tired.
So I have to stop and rest awhile.
I drop to the ground with a thump.
Here I am sitting in the mud.
Somehow I am used to it.
For it is how I feel most of the time.
Again I look up at the sky, "God where are
You?"
I quietly mutter to myself.
"God are You even there?
'Cause I just hurt so much."
All I know right now is that I have grown
so weary.
I ache in every corner.
There is mindache, heartache, and soulache.
I'm close to my end.
Standing on the edge, six feet doesn't seem
so far down.
This life of mine is nothing, does that mean
I am nothing as well?
"God, if You're there, please come close.
See the marred heart on my sleeve.
Please take it, can You make it over
again?"
Oh, what's the use? I think to myself.
I raise my head to the sky once more.
Trying to see if anything is there.
Looking through my eyes is like looking
through a broken window.
Then I realize, I keep looking up.
"I keep looking up!" I exclaim.
I must still have a small measure of hope
left.
And it was inside of me all the time.
How could I be so blind?
It was there all the time!
I wonder what else is there.
What else is there for me to find.
Then the sun's rays start to peek over
the horizon.
The night leaves to go elsewhere.
A brand new day has begun.
I pick myself up.
Off I go, carrying on.
Pressing forward.
With a renewed sense of purpose.
No longer looking behind, or even ahead.
I am now looking within.
I think I will find God there.
Even though believing is the hardest part.
I find that I can believe.
"Oh God, there You are."
You were here all the time.
I just refused to see.
But now I see.
I know I am no longer alone, I never was.
Even though I am still broken, cracked,
and crumbling.
Slowly I am healing.
The cracks are disappearing one by one.
I believe.
And I know it.
I believe.
Nothing is going to stop me, not even me.
My gaze is fixed squarely on the horizon.
Just like that old car.
I was never beyond repair.
I am now looking through a clear window.
Even though the road is narrow.
It's all easy going from here on.
I may be in the middle of nowhere
but I am somewhere.
Right where I'm supposed to be.
All roads lead to a destination.
That's where I have myself aimed.
And I am on my way........home.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY
Wonderful insight. I hope you keep finding the best place for you.
ReplyDeleteThank you Frances, as I you.
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