Ever wonder what a thirteen year old girl in jail might pray? Recently, I wrote a prayer after volunteering with the girls.
God, can you see me? Do you know where I am? Where are you when I cry myself to sleep? Why do you take everything I love away? Do you care? I’m alone in jail with no one to save me. Can I trust you with my hurts, my shame, my anger? Will you accept me? Are you real? Will you actually make me whole?
I need answers. I need hope. I need love. I’m lonely and afraid. Can I trust you? What is life about? Suffering surrounds me. Dark clouds hover overhead. Are you the answer and meaning of life? Do you know my name? Where were you when they hurt me? Were you near, were you watching? Did you weep when I did?
Is there any good that can come out of my life? I feel worthless. I’m broken, bruised and bleeding. I need to know you care. If I jump, will you catch me? I’m out of options. I’m ready to leap.
Father, if you’re real, catch me. Don’t let me drown. Embrace me and wipe my tears. Show me truth. Show me your love. Take the mess of my life and make it beautiful. You’re all I have left. Be my hope.
If you’re not real, why bother.
Amen
After my husband read this, he said, “Wow, that’s deep.”
Is it? Aren’t we all searching for hope? Aren’t we all imprisoned to something? Our thought life, maybe? I am. I’ve lived in the silence of my own cell for far too long.
But guess what? The other day another one of shackles broke loose.
And for that, I am thankful. Thankful for freedom.
Freedom– in Christ alone.
