Lament

By Angie Vestal

For what am I searching?
For all that I’ve lost,
Buried too deep to feel
Exhumed at too great a cost?

The seams of my soul
Would swell and then burst,
Destruction in earnest
From mortally cursed

If only He would consent
To look through this steel
At His little girl
Who tries not to feel.

But I begged Him to look
And He chose not to see,
Or answer my call,
Or care about me.

So I threw up my hands
And He struck me again
No balm and no love
Is part of His plan

And thus here am I,
Sunk down on my knees
In exhausted surrender,
Still trying to please.

So how goes it God
Whose face I won’t see,
Who damns me to Hell,
Who punishes me?

Am I entertainment enough
For Your sadist ways,
Chained to Your folly and
Cowed to Your pain?

And will You condemn me
For now caving in
When all that You’ve given
Is fuel for my sin?

Or will You show mercy
To Your faithful whore
When the bludgeoning is over
And I am no more?

 

Normally I try to be uplifting and positive, but I think that to be honest about the pain and anger felt during grief is useful and so I want to be as transparent as I can without having people worry about my mental health. Let me be clear here, I am NOT suicidal, but this is a dark time for me. I have been clearing out Mom’s house this summer, going through a lifetime of memories in my childhood home. This is part of the healing process for me, but it hasn’t been easy. The first week or so in August also marks the anniversaries of the birthdays of my father, my mother, and Branson and the one year mark since my mother told me she had cancer. When I grieve one, I grieve them all, and so Ellis, my husband, is also included in my lament. It’s hard to believe that all of them are gone in such a short time. I am sad and very angry at God and I’m not reaching out to friends much lately. I don’t really want to, and it’s okay. It’s okay to feel these feelings and to acknowledge them. Eventually, as I always do, I will pick myself up and dust myself off and get on with the business of living, but today writing out the anger and hurt helps to get it outside of me and to clear the inside for more positive thoughts. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the poem and understand that it comes from a heart that is feeling pain, but also has great potential for joy.

 Job by Leon Joseph Florentin Bonnat