The night is late and the house is quiet. I go from one room to another. Pacing really, only not realizing I'm doing so. I've scrolled through all the cable channels, there's nothing on I want to watch. Looked through my DVD collection, nothing there either. Here I go to check the refrigerator for the 10th time in 2 hours. Nothings changed. There's nobody here but me.
Where is the life I'd planned? How did it slip through my fingers? I should have held on tighter. Or, maybe, I held on too tight. I can feel my emotions pressing in on me, trying to weigh me down. Keep moving! I've got to keep moving!
Through the house again. But there's nobody here but me.
A storm is coming. I can feel it. My clothes already feeling heavy from its downpour. Seems like I've been trying to make headway through one storm after another. I'm tired! No one I can call. No one who would understand! A wise woman once said writing is " the most satisfying thing next to talking to God himself". But write to who? Who could help me face the rolling waves likely to engulf me? My soul says "I know".
Pen is put to paper:
Dear God,
I know it's been a while. But I really need your help.
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