Perfect describes that warm, delicious day when I decided to go for a walk in the sun. Small, gold finches twittered and blue jays squawked their playful exchanges. And You walked with me. I knew You were there because I drank Your presence and soaked in Your love. You took my hand, squeezed it with delight, and You satisfied me. That day could not have gotten better.
Then I saw someone else in a brief and fleeting glance. His offer seemed so full of desire, passion even, a fire that mesmerized my psyche. He squeezed my hand and the nerve endings in each finger tip flurried a sense of pain and warning but also curiosity and risk. I listened as his voice invited me to question You for the first time. My hand slipped from Yours in vague slow motion. I didn’t even realize what happened. Then it was too late.
Now after long and weary nights of shame I ask, ‘where were You’ when that evil breath and those crafty words singed my neck? When I looked up, the finches were crazy mad, and when it was over, a distant dove mourned while another repeated her haunt. Where were You? I begged and cried for You to come for me. Others knew what happened and looked the other way. “No, you must be mistaken,” they said. “No, it will be alright. You’ll see.” “Just this once won’t hurt,” they said. But it did. I sought Your tenderness but found only a memory.
Later, You came for me. Too late I heard Your voice. “Where are you,” You asked. The one who stood with me answered, “We knew You would come and here You are. We are hiding.” When I saw You and listened to the words You spoke so firm and yet so soft, I knew You had been there all along. But somehow, even now, inside Your courts and protected by Your gates, I still want to know. Where were You when I had no one but the evil one? Where? When I fell and bruised my soul in the Garden. When I cradled my murdered son? When I reached out to You, breathing carbon fumes. When I walked the street intent on paying the price for food no matter the cost just to feed my daughter.
Where were You when I…