The Promise

Empty and lonely and lost and stripped bare; pruned they say. 

To the bone, I reply back. 

And everyone says “it’s just a season” or “this too shall pass”.
And I know this to be true because I’ve been here before;
So why do I find myself here again? 

The seasons are cyclical, they say. 

I feel like I’ve skipped the good seasons somehow, I reply. 

How does one continually flounder back and forth from
Fall to winter…fall to winter…fall to winter?

There is always a teasing – a smattering here and there of a day or two of spring. 

But it’s fleeting. 

Just when I shed my protective coat,
Turn my face up to the sky to feel the sun shine on it
The cold rains begin again.

And I feel defeated.
And cold.
And lonely.
And forsaken. 


Left wondering why…what do I do now?
How do I do this alone?

I try to reach out in this busy world.
But mostly I just keep it To myself…who needs my stuff added to theirs?

They shy away when you get “real”;
fearful that what you have might be contagious. 


And my only hope really?
Is just this…to hold on to the promise,

Even when it seems like all is lost and there is nothing good left.

“The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; 

he will never leave you nor forsake you. 

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” 

–Deut 31:8