Edit Me

Here I am.  In a foul mood.  It's usually these times that I'm cross with the kids, I want to be left alone, and I need to write.

It's built up anxiety, it's the deserted place, laying down beside a bush, waiting to die....or for the Lord to show up and speak to me.

Speak to me.  I am listening. 

With full intent.
I ponder what might be Your thoughts.
Ok, maybe not.
In reality I grapple with
the Obvious.

In between truth
and being mislead.
I sit discouraged.
Having lead myself.

The sky still holds it's place,
the birds still fly around,
But today Your song
though it may be falling on my ears,
doesn't make a sound.

Tired of trying to see
the invisible.
Today I like to give faith
a break
and have You physically
move me from here to
a different place.

This heart (*scream*)
shameful.
These hands (*sigh*)
pitiful.
And these efforts
anything but meaningful.
Edit me.