I could not come this time and stand on my feet.
I just thought of you and sank.
"I'm tough, I'm tough," I told myself...
but I fell apart.
Thin arms cling lightly to my sunken chest.
I hold my breath.
Your sad eyes droop with hopelessness,
and I feel like I'm dying with you.
And I hold your toothpick ribcage.
And I pray aloud into your ear,
"Lord what would you have of me?
To plead before You for this child?
Why does faith seem so foreign to me now?"
Every time I see your beautiful faces in my thoughts,
or in something I see, may faith stand firm.
Let it grow from grace I have received
and know that this grace abounds to you so far away.