some times i feel lonely. do you ever feel that way? i don’t mean physically lonely, i mean mentally. emotionally. spiritually even. it’s like my thoughts linger at the restaurant, waiting for my guest to show up, only to realize i’ve been stood up. i ache for a loss i’ve no name for.
then the sun rises and reaches her fingers deep into my soul to remind me that He painted the sky just for me.
soon my love. soon you’ll have the answers you desire.
He whispers this in my ears. i forget. i stumble. i blame. because finding fault is better than waiting for answers. it soothes the soul. i convince myself justice has won out. and then i weep. i shed a tear for every single soul on earth whose fighting a battle with no armor. who enemies have sought them out to destroy the most vulnerable parts of them.
i look to the church. the tall steeples, rising over the horizon, beckoning my jaw to drop in awe. the large chestnut doors with brass door knobs welcoming me. i sit in the aged pews, and wonder how many have gone before me. whose spirits have been here? all the fingers that have ran their callused hands across the pages of these bibles. i listen intently, convinced that if i stay quiet, i’ll hear the hushed echoes of prayers of a different time. how many of those were answered, Lord? i wonder.
i see a body rise to the stage. stand tall behind a podium. i straighten up. stare straight. the person takes a breath and opens their mouth. my heart rate quickens. my mouth salivates. i lean in, eager to hear their words. but they close their mouth and turn their backs. i sink back into the pew, bow my head and more tears are shed.
why Lord? why are you silent on my hurts? why am i invisible to the world? is this not important to you? will i ever been seen? will i ever be spoken of?
i rise. clear my throat. it reverberates off the stained glass windows and bounces off the paintings on the ceilings.
i turn and face the forgotten ones.
“this place belongs to us.” i say, “we are the ones whom Jesus came back for.” i urge. “let us remember, the church has chosen to be silent, but Jesus. Jesus has not. He has not forsaken us.”
i ask you. will you stand with me? will you make yourself known? it’s time for the church to see all those they’ve forgotten.