Ever since I grew to adulthood,
I hear the echoes
of everyone who told me,
“That’s not real.
That’s a fantasy.”
Most of the time, I silence them
With a wave of the hand,
And maybe a deep breath,
Sometimes, a wave of grief comes,
My heart begins to ask,
“Were they right?
Does God give us dreams to take them away?
Does He dangle hopes of a beautiful future,
Just to laugh when you are in pain?
There are times in my life when I believe them,
When the hope that God is listening grows as faint as a fading heartbeat,
The ache swells until my chest begins to cave into itself.
I cease to breathe in in terror of reality,
I force myself to breathe and anger overtakes me that God has turned His back.
But He hasn’t turned His back.
He is here when hundreds have told me He doesn’t hear me.
He is waiting for me when I can hear Him through the despair.
He hears me when I cry out in the pain of the skepticism that is our world.
Cast behind you the words of those who condemn you for belief in hope.
Cast behind you the belief that grief will win.
Cast behind you the grief that God doesn’t hear you,
And doesn’t love the real you.
There is a place for you.
Just because you haven’t found it doesn’t mean you won’t.
Use your wounds to heal others until you escape the chains,
And then free the slaves.
Sometimes God answers no, but not when it’s His promises to you.
If you are called to something, He will bring you to it somehow, I believe.
Even here in the darkness.