God’s Angry Man

In the dark night of my soul,

I pray for rain

to wash clean

my dirty streets,

knowing full well,

they will

become dirty

yet again;

for,

I sin boldly

in the face

of a God

who has shown me

mercy,

and I ask forgiveness,

only to squander it

like money

at a gambler’s table;

perhaps,

it is a good thing

that I am not

worthy

of such

grace;

I choose

to be prodigal,

time

and time

again,

like a spoiled child

who is

never satisfied;

I cannot say

I know not

what I do,

for that

would be

a lie;

and,

I want to be

honest

and

I want

to be

real--

my humanness,

this walking

bundle

of contradictions

made

manifest

underneath

God’s heaven,

upon God’s

earth.

If it is I,

past,

present, and

future

imperfect--

who,

like

so many

before me,

has

been chosen

to be His

representative

here,

then

so be it,

and

to Him

be

the glory.

And

what will happen,

will happen,

because,

in accordance

to His will,

it

was meant

to be.

Amen.

© 2014 Joseph Powell