A Written Prayer

[Written this past weekend, but never posted.]

I've been told it helps to write down your prayers.

 

I wonder whether some believe it makes your thoughts clearer or more coherent...in doing so, perhaps, you give your prayers greater focus, and therefore, a greater purpose. Maybe writing down a prayer makes the whole praying experience more meaningful.

 

Or perhaps they believe that writing down a prayer has some sort of therapeutic effect on the mind...it might help you to make sense of things on your own before you take it up to God...then that way, He can help you with the rest knowing that you did your very best to figure things out alone first. He might, after all, appreciate the fact that you put forth some effort before asking for help. I imagine I would want to know that someone tried to figure things out on their own before asking for help. Maybe He does too. Maybe not.

 

Maybe writing down a prayer is like utilizing a kind of divine learning technique, you know? Kind of like when a teacher gives you 10 seconds to silently write down an answer to their question before talking it out with a partner or sharing with the whole class. They say the mere act of writing something down helps you to learn because you have to put it into your own words...and you have to actually know what on earth you are talking about. It triggers something within you and becomes forever embedded in your memory.

 

At least that's what I have heard.

 

So I thought I would try it out..after all I am a self proclaimed writer...and I think I should give this a chance...because I have exhausted many of my own methods of coping and finding guidance, and this couldn't hurt.

 

I also think a part of me truly believes that putting this out into the internet is kind of like pushing it out into the universe. So maybe God will have an easier time hearing me out from all the way down here...as foolish as that may sound.

 

So here it goes.

 

God,

 

I've lost my way. No matter how often I try to pick up the pieces of a shattered person, I feel unable to put myself together.Somewhere in my past I lost a part of me. An essential part, and no matter how earnestly I try to fill that void, I can't help but wonder why.

 

I'm not sure if this will make any sense, but I used to have all the answers. And they used to matter so much. But not anymore. Not now. I can only think about the person I was and long after her. Like Lot's wife, I do nothing but look back. Was she so wrong?

 

I'm looking back to the life I once had. The life I knew. Full of regret. Full of questions. Full of desire. The grass greener on the other end. I see it now. And while I know I shouldn't, I want it back. I want my life the way it was. Is that so bad? I want to struggle, and fight, and feel. If it means I feel more pain, I can deal with it.

 

They laugh at me when I say it, but it's a crisis. You're too young to have an identity crisis. Too young to know what pain is. Too young to know what life is really about....That's what they say. Too young, too rash, too impulsive. Too selfish.

 

Well, yeah. Maybe I am.

 

Whether I'm young enough or not, I'm living it. And life doesn't seem to mind that I'm too young to be hurt. It doesn't seem to be holding back, so why should I? Why should I set myself aside. I feel like I don't matter to you anymore.

 

What do I want? I don't know anymore. I don't know who I am anymore. I need some light. Some direction.

 

Are you even up there?

 

Can you even hear my prayer?

I need you now. Just give me a way out of this confusion. Just stop me before I walk away.

 

I've lost my trust. My conviction. My faith.

 

But I'm still here.

 

Waiting. Please.

 

Amen.