When I Ask Why, God

When I ask, “Why, God?”I’m not asking Youto come down from heaven,take the witness stand,and plead Your case.

I’m not demandingan explanationfor every tear I’ve cried,every prayer that went unanswered,or every night I spentwondering what the purposeof it all was.

Because truth be told,

Even if You handed mea carefully written résuméof all the reasons why,

Why the pain,why the tears,why the heartbreak,why the nightsI cried myself to sleep,

Even if You explainedevery single detail,until every question markbecame a period,

Understanding whywouldn’t undo what happened.

It wouldn’t unbreakwhat was broken.

It wouldn’t give me backthe pieces of myselfI lost along the way.

Because sometimes,knowing why something hurtsdoesn’t make it hurt any less.

So when I ask,“Why, God?”

What I really mean is,

God, I’m tired.

I’m tired of carrying burdensthat have been resting on my shouldersfor so longI’ve forgotten what it feels liketo stand up straight.

When I ask,“Why, God?”

I’m not asking Youto explain the purposeof every wound.

I’m asking Youto come and seewhere it still hurts.

To touch the placesI’ve learned to hide,the scars I’ve coveredwith smiles,and the woundsthat time has passed bybut never healed.

When I ask,“Why, God?”

Sometimes,all I’m trying to say is,

God, I need a hug.

I need You to hold mebecause I’ve spent so much timetrying to hold myself together,and I don’t knowhow much longer I can.

I don’t need another explanation.I don’t need another reason.

I just need to knowthat when my worldfalls apart,I can still fallinto Your arms.

And when I ask,“Why, God?”

What I really mean is,

Please,help me make peacewith the thingsI cannot change.

Help me conquerthe demons of my past,the memories that keep knockingon doors I’ve tried so hardto close.

Teach me how to rememberwithout reliving.

How to look backwithout being pulled back.

How to acknowledgewhat happened to mewithout allowing itto become all that I am.

Because God,

I’m tired of waking upin the presentonly to spend another dayliving in yesterday.

I’m tired of speakingabout tomorrowwith a heartstill imprisonedby what happened before.

So when I ask,“Why, God?”

I’m not asking Youto rewrite yesterday.

I’m asking Youto help me believethat there’s still a tomorrowworth living for.

I’m not asking Youto explain every chapterof my story.

I’m asking Youto hold my handwhile I find the courageto turn the page.

Because God,

I don’t need to understandevery reasonwhy my heart was broken.

I just need Youto help me stop livingmy entire lifein the past tense.