On Retreat in Everyday Life
I asked God for a hug,
and I got arms.
I asked God for a kiss,
and I got the ability to see.
I asked God for a sense of peace,
and I got the responsibility of caring
for a husband, three kids, a dog,
and an aging parent.
I asked God for clarity,
and I got silence.
I asked God for a sense of consolation,
and I got a splinter in my finger,
and then it got infected.
I asked God for some insight,
and I got a headache.
I asked for awareness of God’s presence,
and I got freedom.
Oh Loving God, why must you love me so much
that you keep reminding me that I am not God?
Why won’t you love me just enough
to answer my prayers in the ways I wish?
Why must you remain hidden
in ambiguity and absurdity?
Or at least then, why won’t you let me
be happy without you?
So again I closed my eyes
and took some deep breaths,
and I asked God to help me pray,
and my child got the flu.
I asked to spend time with God on the beach,
and got led into the desert.
I asked God for guidance,
and I got you as my director.