“I want to talk to God but I’m afraid because we ain’t spoke in so long”

And another lyrical talent, Mr. Kanye West, has given me words to express my thoughts as of late. For the first time in years…no, make that forever, I got down on my knees. Today… this morning I prayed like the old folks say to do. I knelt, head in hands, against my kitchen chair before leaving for work. AA has influenced this action, undoubtedly. I’m not known to do such primitive things. It felt strange, I won’t lie. It was an ordinary act in attempt to yield extraordinary results. But I know better than to ask for anything. Almost 5 months sober, we don’t ask. We say “Thank you.” Grateful to be alive. After my adventures with alcohol, grace has saved my ass and brought me to my knees.
Yet there was a time, in my young life, when I was introduced to “spirit” and “God/god” …mom brought us to church every Sunday. We went to sunday school, we even visited the holy rollin’ missionary Baptists tent revivals during summers with mamaw. That was not exactly my kind of god, but it was a start. My mom talked about salvation on our back deck in the late afternoon. Trees, birds, animals, rivers, mountains, sky, stars, moon and sunshine…a flower. I see and feel God there. But talking to god? Not sure how that works exactly. Prayer is the common man’s word for communion with the Alpha & Omega. Meditation is the term of monks and gurus. I have many times felt a presence, hair-raising on arms, when I am often hearing or seeing something divine and my soul recognizing it as such. I have a physical response to it. Always. Call it neurological, call it psychological, call it the Almighty…it matters not the name. Higher power is real. As real as the air we breathe. Our pulse beating, our tears shed, our laughter, our heartaches. Undeniably existent but so many shut it out or turn it off. Booze turned off the volume. Kneeling with head bowed, well that brings the silence of “mind” necessary for hearing. My day that followed this unusual morning ritual was quite different from the days passed. Oh yes, noticeably so. I was in the moment. Not all day, but more often than not. And that is a real gift. I want to tell you that each day will begin this way for me now. On my knees, head bowed patiently for god to arrive and let me thank her /him/ it. But I’m such a novice. These things take time. God is not dead, Nietzsche. You just haven’t found him yet. Maybe because you ain’t spoke in so long?

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One thought on ““I want to talk to God but I’m afraid because we ain’t spoke in so long”

  1. My child, my heart breaks for you & yet, I am so immensely proud of your courage & reflection… Your soul work. You will find the way that is right for you, this I know!
    Growth is hard & challenging , but the Divine Potter will mold you into a splendid vessel, w:your work & bending.

    Much love,
    Mom

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