Sometimes my head is like a slideshow.
When you least expect it
suddenly you're back in the backseat of the minivan
trying desperately to keep your clothes on,
looking up at the ceiling and grimacing.
Or driving home from church sobbing
and pulling over so you don't crash
wondering if you're still fit to sing
about God's wonder and beauty.
Is it sacreligious if that comes out of the mouth of
someone so broken?
The tears in your eyes
and the way your gripped my hand
indicate that you felt the same.
Sometimes what scarred us makes us more beautiful.
I think we've both always hoped so.
It must be hard to be God,
watching us make these mistakes, wishing we wouldn't
and knowing all the while that tomorrow morning, next week, two years from now
we'd still be haunted by the choice, the pictures,
the feeling of fake leather under our backs, clothes discarded.
-3/10/08
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