Grief

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I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God,
that He may hear me.
In the day of my trouble
I seek the Lord;
in the night
my hand is stretched
out without wearying;
my soul refuses
to be comforted.
[Psalms 77:1-2]
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"What a funny valentine, Lord!"

[SILENCE.]

"Funny: that's what I've
told them!"

[SILENCE.]

"I like to say funny things,
Lord."

"Yes, child."

"But, there's a knife in
my heart."

"I know, My child."

"And, my heart bleeds a little,
every moment."

[SILENCE.]

"It bleeds very slowly, little
by little. And, I can't stop it."

[SILENCE.]

"It hurts to breathe, Lord."
It even hurts to breathe."

"Yes, child."

"What can I do, Lord?
Tell me what to do."

"Surrender to Me, child."

"But, how, Lord?
You haven't told me
what to do?"

"Surrender it to Me, child."

"Huh?
What d'Ya mean, Lord?"

"Child,
My child!"

"What?
WHAT, Lord?
Tell me!"

"Hold out your hand,
My precious."

[horrified]
"No, Lord!
I can't do it!"

"And, give it to Me, child."

[panicked stricken]
"No! No, Lord!
But, it's gonna HURT!"

"Hold out your hand, little one.
[TENDER PAUSE]
And, give Me the knife."
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I lift up my eyes
to the hills.
From whence does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord.
Who made heaven and earth.
[Psalms 121:1-2]

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