These lines around my lines are not wrinkles they are maps that show you the winding roads that lead to my pain. I remember sitting a college classroom and the only thing being tested is my faith in God, the only thing passing is my hope. I remember sitting in the back row of a cold sanctuary crying because I desperately wanted what the preacher was saying to be true but my doubts were preaching a sermon of their own and the streams of my tears turned into oceans of frustration. And something inside of me wished that somehow before she passed away she could pass her confidence down to me like an old family picture. But I know who I belong to.” And I was so happy for her. I had never seen such pain and such confidence living in the same eyes when she told me, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Last year, my grandmother laid in a hospital bed like a bus stop, waiting for God to come pick her up.
I have lived in its darkness for so long. It seems that I have all the right questions, but never enough answers and my faith is small enough to fit in the cracks of my palms, God.Įvery night I lay my head down to sleep, the city of my mind is attacked by a legion of questions threatening the living rooms of my sanity and holding them hostage. To never know the day that you would finally live beyond the shadow of a doubt. What it feels like to have your entire belief system overload with skepticism. Because she had no idea of what it feels like to doubt.
I remember, my little niece ran up to me and told me, “We learned about Jesus today.” And I could tell by her smile she was so excited to learn about this man she did not quite know yet, but she knew without a doubt for it to be true because, after all, Mommy said so.Īnd that was the first time in my life that I looked into the eyes of a child and envied them. (Read about my summer camp experience! The Summit) Hey! Welcome to my page! I hope you enjoy this transcription of such a wonderful piece.
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