I say to God my Rock, “Why have You forgotten me? Why must I walk in sorrow because of the enemy’s oppression?”
Some days you might sit down to pray and find the only word that comes is why. The careful phrases you usually start with can feel thin next to it, and underneath sits something rawer: where were you, and how long is this going to hurt? Perhaps you swallow it and say something tidier, or nothing at all.
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