I laid the side of head on the textbook in front of me. I closed my eyes and I let tears leak out. I didn’t formally start the prayer so it may have just been me repeating thoughts to myself for all I know.
“Please take this away from me”, I pleaded. “Please take this away from me.”
I repeated this over again. Tears still streaming. My face hurt. Laying it against a hard surface was not as comfortable as I had hoped.
I thought back to my friend in between my requests. He had done the same thing for 2 years. “Please take this from me” for two whole years trumped my 2 minutes here on this book. I felt strong when I told him I would never ask for that. I felt like I knew my Father better than to ask that meaningless question.
“Please, Please take this away. Please take this from me.”
I thought I was strong. That I had a special witness of truth. As I lay here with my cheek bone bruising, tears steady, I keep repeating that same command. Feelings of loss wash over me with a new stream of tears.
My repetition stalled. I asked myself if I had lost my faith. Where is the belief that It will get better? I convinced myself I was the exception in the minority. Convinced I would be the one who could, better yet, would overcome this.
“Have I lied to myself this long?”
I want to give up. I want to progress. I can do neither. Doomed to be in a rut on a mountain. The cliff behind me too high to fall, the face in front of me too steep to climb. I know too much to go back now, but don’t have the strength to move forward. I am lost to hypocrisy, straddling the gray of the gospel. The point of this test is becoming hazy.