fixing a hole

team fury started into walter brueggemann's book on great jewish prayers from the OT.
we sat in prayer for a while after conversation. i wrote mine to keep my mind from wandering...

YHWH, who hears...

what would i demand of you,
beg of you?
what would i cry and groan if i believed that you were listening...
if i believed you might respond?

would i ask for anything if i believed in your presence?
or would i be awestruck
or babbling with praise?

we know the answer to that
i'm neither awestruck or praising
i pray at the bottom of things
whether you're there or not
not knowing if you're listening or ignoring...

doubt keeps me mute
my intellect resisting
on the days when i'm not pushed to the edge

for then i believe
at the end of my tether i have no choice but to

no words, except,
help me

don't judge me, like i do, for that.

...

amen

::

i can't find words to sum up this afternoon's mess. but found resonance in these lines for the better from paul

there's a door standing open for me. one i pushed. but now that it's opening i doubt that i am ready for what lies beyond it.
which is harder, to throw oneself headlong through, or to admit that i'm not in a place for bold leaps and ask for help? i've been all too reckless with my feelings in the past. and no way to explain with adequacy what i need or want.

i think i want another door. and i can't see one.

LB