God Blinks An Eye

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We are told to continue to pray, with Faith and to believe. That God does things for His reasons and answers prayers in His time. Then, too, we are told that our lives are a blink of His eye. Did you Blink God and not hear me? Did I disappoint You so badly that you cannot bear to hear me, my sobs, my anguish, my loss and my helplessness – did it extend to nonchalance at the gritty hurt of insecurity, pain & homelessness?

I can remember that the only things I was sure I wanted in this life: a home for myself and my kids, somewhere safe and where nobody could make me go, finally secure. Where I’d cook and clean and welcome my family in from the world outside and we would share togetherness.

This never happened. Instead we were pushed to sleeping in parks, on pavements, dirty and unkempt, losing everything, losing dignity, losing hope. Still, I prayed. You know I did.

The only other thing I ever wanted was to feel and believe that I was loved. Perhaps a man who showed with actions not just words, that leaving me was not an option. Obviously, I can never believe that now and I accepted a long time ago that to be alone and single is my preference – I just do not believe this is possible. Anyone willing to love me would need to love my broken children – and I will never accept that such a man exists.

Failing all that, the love of my children would have (should) sufficed; fill some void and that would be enough. This, too, has never happened. They love me because they have to, but there is no intensity of emotion or loyalty toward me. I’m just the person who carries the blame and broke everything further.

I cannot remember ever not trying. Not doing all I can for them. Bargaining, hospitals, courts, clothes, food, work and more work. Beaten to save them from being beaten. Weak in so many ways that the guilt lives inside of me.

I no longer try. I will run only if I have absolutely no choice. I will walk away when disrespected. I will accept my failures and my inability to “fix”. I stay without food and I stay inside an ailing body. I cannot care anymore.  And, still I do not hear God. That kills me the most. I am not waiting for “breakthrough” and promises of “Amens” for money are just offensive – wise up!

I will wake up (on any given day) and I will find laughter or I will remain sad, with my reminiscences of love, those I loved and lost to death or betrayal. It is okay, either way. I do not expect miracles because we squander them – they are tiny feet, rainbows, a people united by thousands in solidarity against war or injustice, forgiveness, orgasms, hugs, a homeless person sharing his last food,  We, the blind, we, the deaf – praying praying praying – while God safely blinks an eye…Because He already gifted us our miracles. I am positive he hoped Humanity would not squander them.

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