We cannot find the good without some disciplined thought.
We have unmet demands. We have disappointments.
Nothing proceeds according to schedule.
Is it His fault? Did He fail us?
Perhaps.
Or
Perhaps we haven't the right to plan. Not here or now.
Perhaps that act breaks the unwritten rules of the universe.
Perhaps He doesn't listen to our pleading. It has already been ordained.
Perhaps our desperate cries in the dark of night are an anxious waste of breath.
Perhaps He is busy. It is a big universe and we are very small and almost totally inconsequential.
Or
Perhaps we are very important and we have lessons to learn that only a hollow no will teach us.
Perhaps that's it.
That's where I land when I hopscotch myself to the end of the chalky squares.
Perhaps I am very loved, and perhaps there is a plan.
Perhaps it isn't as random or existential as it looks.
Perhaps unsought lessons will be learned, and perhaps I will be perceptibly changed,
and perhaps all will be well in the end.
Like a bride beautiful in her white gown, I will enter and see my groom at the altar,
smiling at me, with a ring in his pocket, and love in his eyes and devotion in his heart and
scars from battles he has fought for my hand.
And that is when I will live happily
for ever after.
Forever.
Perhaps I can thank Him for the promise of that day.
Perhaps thankful doesn't even begin to say it.
