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At first, I mistook my vulnerability for proof—

proof that I was the better one.

A jolt of Schadenfreude. 


When it came closer to home,

I allowed myself to feel the pain.

Same suffering. Different hearts.

 

My prejudice,

simply a mask for that old ache:

“Am I enough?”

Now, SCREAMING INTO MY SOUL.

The moment I felt ground

                                                    less

                                                                ness.

 

But Prayer brought me Home.

 

A Prayer to feel —

her pain.

And hers.

 

To cradle the restlessness of uncertainty

that I have felt,

that I am afraid to feel.

 

That is the power and purpose of Prayer —

To belong,

even in the not knowing.

To bring us

Home.

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