All Glory to God

From a collection of poems and prayers titled Interobang, by Norman Habel.

If I can't be honest with you, Lord

I can't be honest with anyone.

You are the only person I know

Who can take it

no matter what I say

People are offended if I'm honest.

They want to hear nice things

Sweet words of happiness

Gentle hymns to a gentle God

Smiling somewhere

on a red velvet throne

Well I'm sick of being phony

and I don't like to act

as if there's nothing wrong

with me

or my friends

or the world

or you

Sometimes I want to scream at you

and let it out

I have a million

Unanswered prayers

stuck in my craw

I want you to listen

when I yell at the sky

Pound my pillow

kick the ground

throw stones at the stars

slam doors

or swear at the world

Perhaps that's not giving

all glory to God

as others do

with folded hands and frozen face

but for me it means

I'm paying you

the highest respect there is.

It means I trust you with the truth-

all the truth.

Alive, Almost

A poem I wrote this summer. Yay, depression!

I'm alive

In some strange sense of the word

Meaning that my self-destructive tendencies haven't quite overpowered

The grace of my God

I'm sick

And have been for a while now

Choking and unable to breathe. Adding to the misery

While a small voice in my head whispers that this is just what I deserve

After all,

I'm broken

Beyond repair

A mess of plans gone wrong and a disaster waiting to happen

I'm trapped

As the things I loved and the things I wished for and dreamed of came within my grasp

And then quietly slipped away.

All the while,

I'm struggling

To put aside these thoughts

Of glittering knives and speeding cars and venomous snakes

Whispering to me of easy ends

I'm helpless

Watching the people I love cry from things I have said

and being completely unable to fix it.

Unable to make them understand

I'm trying

My hardest to remember that even in this nightmare, even when it seems that all is lost and the daylight will never come

My God is in control.

I'm repeating

To myself what I'm trying to see as true:

This will not destroy me, He has not forgotten me, and

In spite of me,

All will be well again.