So I’ve written a lot of bitter poems in the last two years. I keep finding a constant theme embedded in many of them. Usually it shows up right at the end when I’m the most frustrated: Hope.
No matter how frustrated I am, no matter how bitter I am or how often I’m shouting, “Call me Mara, for I am bitter,” there’s still hope. Hope in God. Hope in Him who gives all hope. Without that hope, there’d be nothing. I’d have nothing to grasp onto in those desperate moments where all else fails to comfort. Where did David turn in moments of anguish? Heavy liquor and a twelve gauge? No, dude! He turned to God. In his moments of anger, he turned to God. In joy, he recognized God. In all things…
Thank God.