"Trust Me", He says, and my heart goes bad. "Trust Me", He says, and I wanna scratch at the walls, tearing off plaster until my nails bleed. I want control, but have none.
I writhe in agony, impatience a gnarled tease that tethers and pollutes my soul. I know He's right, but still I rail calling Him every name in the book and then some.
Pounding the ground, I moan. The pavement is dented with the weight of my rage. Railing against Him, I beat at his chest fists pummeling into Him like sleet, sharp and merciless. And yet He stands, bearing the brunt of my fury, looking at me with his gentle, steady gaze, and waits for me to relent. He patiently calls my name, calls me, to a higher ground steadfast and sturdy.
"Daughter" He whispers, and I go, my handkerchief dirty, and soaking with tears.
"Come" He says, leading me away. His arms around my shoulders envelop me in peace. "Let's see where He goes" I say to myself, and for now, it is enough.
"Come" He says, leading me away. His arms around my shoulders envelop me in peace. "Let's see where He goes" I say to myself, and for now, it is enough.
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