I'm listening for you. Speak to me.
I refuse to raise my hopes for this job, but there is hope nonetheless. I'm praying that this thing gets through but is this what you want? I doubt you're pressed to help me figure out something so trivial -- but I'm asking you anyway. There's just been way too much leeway and I've slipped between the cracks one too many times. I need you to go ahead of me this time. I will not go if you don't.
I feel frustrated.
Maybe because I've been here before. You'd think that one could graduate from these things. *laughs* I recognize this time of doubt. I recognize these thoughts. These questions. These distractions.
And then I recognize your love. Your provision. Your patience. I recognize your peace.
Yet I speak like an insolent little child. Demanding the rights of a prodigal -- which is what, really? And for what purpose? So I can squander it on the shallows of life? My God, my God, why have I forsaken you again? Am I so fickle a creature that I am so prone to abandoning my creator?
You hold all things together -- even the very fibers that make up my being. You know the plans you have for me. In that, I will be content. In that, I will rejoice in my uncertainty. I will remember your gift of hope for my mortality. I will remember the gift of eternity for humanity.
I will remember You.
What can I say without imploding (or exploding) about how lovely, and how all-knowing you are? Only so much.