Not Telling

Father,

Whatever You're up to, I know You're not telling.
But in the not telling
Be God.

You have every right.

All that's gone on
in the middle of the night
in the middle of the day
in the middle of my life....

Interrupting and disorganizing and deconstructing
everything...

All that was threatened....
My most precious treasure,
feverish and anxious and sometimes screaming
Looking me straight in the eye
And demanding that Gramma make it stop,
And not understanding why Gramma let's them hurt her so....

The crazy, "today you can go home but actually you can't"
psychotic game of it....

Not my bed, not my schedule, not my life...

All of it.
You have every right.
Because I've given it all to You.
Over and again I have.
It's all Yours.
I say it, I sing it, I mean it.

So whatever You're up to, I know You're not telling.
But in the not telling
Be God.

My God.
My Yahweh.
You are God and I am not.
And I love You.
I hated this. Almost every part of it was wretched.
But I love You.
And You are God.

So whatever You're up to, I know You're not telling.
But in the not telling
Be God.

Your exhausted, abandoned daughter,

Ruth Anne