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.