two nights ago...

Do you ever feel that the times that you most need someone, the nights you are most desiring of shared human emotion, you would rather seclude yourself to a darkened corner or crawl up in a ball in the back closet of your father’s house? You know the one, behind your grandmother’s 40 pound fur coat and your mother’s moth-eaten nighty. They are old and barely worth the sentiments which hang about them like stale breath, the soured vapour reminder of nights long past. And it is in these moments that you know you are utterly alone in the world. There is no one with which to share those memories and dark emotions. No one at all. And you are left to face the vastness of the dark with a fleeting image in your beguiled head and a sinking feeling in your sickened gut: Christ! My Lord, where are you?
And the answer is quiet…oh so quiet…if you but twitch you will miss it. He is there even in the dark and waiting for the cry of surrender. So it comes so softly now, so barely there in those last moments of despair. And then the flood. The gates are thrust open; the dam relents and the mercy rains flow; the shame grows…and all at once is banished. Christ has won again. Amen.