Where your uncertainty of prayer ends is where your faith must begin.
A poem I wrote to myself a few years back:
Girl, do you really want to cry yourself to sleep another night?
Do you really want to relive that sorry hopeless fight?
It was a battle you knew you'd never win,
And here you go thinking about it again.
Things will turn out just as they're planned you know.
You can work out the details but end up too slow.
Aren't you satisfied with how things turned out so far?
Can you really see yourself with him and endure another spar?
Don't pull out those memories, don't dust off that shelf.
Makes plans for once, thinking only of yourself.
You deserve a day in the sunshine, to be happy once more.
Forget about conversations, leave them all at the door.
Bust open the windows, let the stuffy air out.
Pull apart the drapes and push off his clout.
You are your own person, singular, free, not owned by a man.
You start your own stories, you live your own dream, you can.
So shake off the cobwebs and pull out a dress.
Think not of tomorrow, tomorrow won't press.
Live for this moment, bare teeth and let your hair out.
Get over the sadness, and stop with your pout.
You're doing the best that you can.
God, himself has already figured your plan.
Succumb to the path He set out for you.
You'll have no trouble to do what you were born to do.
"You make plans. God laughs"
Do you really want to relive that sorry hopeless fight?
It was a battle you knew you'd never win,
And here you go thinking about it again.
Things will turn out just as they're planned you know.
You can work out the details but end up too slow.
Aren't you satisfied with how things turned out so far?
Can you really see yourself with him and endure another spar?
Don't pull out those memories, don't dust off that shelf.
Makes plans for once, thinking only of yourself.
You deserve a day in the sunshine, to be happy once more.
Forget about conversations, leave them all at the door.
Bust open the windows, let the stuffy air out.
Pull apart the drapes and push off his clout.
You are your own person, singular, free, not owned by a man.
You start your own stories, you live your own dream, you can.
So shake off the cobwebs and pull out a dress.
Think not of tomorrow, tomorrow won't press.
Live for this moment, bare teeth and let your hair out.
Get over the sadness, and stop with your pout.
You're doing the best that you can.
God, himself has already figured your plan.
Succumb to the path He set out for you.
You'll have no trouble to do what you were born to do.
"You make plans. God laughs"
