I used to talk to my Father
when I was very little,
and some would say naive.
I wouldn't necessarily pray
just talk,
because I knew He would listen,
when no one else would.
People told me I was wrong
and that I was silly.
So I stopped talking.
I fell into darkness,
and I learned to hate my Father.
I grew to distrust Him
and finally
to deny Him in my life.
I thought for sure
the One I talked to so long
would not forsake me for my silence.
I felt abandoned
by the only One I thought had truly cared.
I heard my Father
about a year and a half ago now,
I had forgiven Him
and myself
and the world
for all I had been through.
I had been searching for Him
for nearly three years
scouring different houses
hoping and praying He would be there.
I heard my Father on Easter,
He called me back.
and now I talk to my Father again
and am happy at last.

10/07/2003

Author's Note: just a random thought to get me through right now, i just need to remind myself that if no one else is there to listen He is.

Posted on 10/07/2003
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