At night I sat on my bed and waited for you to come. I silently listened with my eyes closed, not knowing if invisible footprints made a sound. They didn’t. I imagined you slipping through the crack of the door. There was a glimpse of hope as a spec of light reflected off my cheek as the door crept open. It wasn’t you.
I prayed the next day and the day after that. I purposely went days without getting into trouble to ensure that I was on your good list. I prayed the following month. I prayed the proceeding year, and the year after that and the year after that.
I thought you didn’t hear me.
At times I struggled with the whys. Why you didn’t come when I called to you. Why you didn’t rescue me when I needed rescuing. I wrestled with whether or not you loved me or if you cared about what I was going through. At times I was so angry that my body responded with panic as I gasped on the mere thoughts of my anguish. I felt helpless. Like I was choking on air.
As you know, I grew up. I went to college and I got married. One day I came across a photo of myself as a little girl. As I looked at the photo I began to cry. I cried because I couldn’t believe that part of my life was over. I cried because I didn’t die. But most of all, I cried because I never took the time to say thank you.
I now realize that when I was praying and waiting and praying for you to come, you were already in my room. You were crying because I was crying. You were heavy-heartedly wiping my tears. When I was talking to you, you were transferring your strength into me, and anointing my head with oil to prepare me for the battle you knew was up ahead.
So I am writing you this letter to simply say this. Thank you for not allowing me to give up. Thank you for blowing the breath of perseverance over me while I slept. Thank you for loving me when I didn’t know how to love myself. Thank you for saving every one of my teardrops, for turning them into blessings, and then for pouring them out on me like rain.
I now realize that you needed me. You needed me to overcome evil with good. You needed me to be victorious so that I could tell others not to give up and not to throw in the towel. You needed me to tell them that they too can be victorious. You needed me just like I needed you. And I will forever be grateful for every giant that you allowed me to overcome along the way. Hey God, if I never remember to tell you anything else, I want to say Thank
You for making something beautiful out of my ashes.
Have you ever been angry at God?