The Cry of the Abandoned

Psalm 22:1-15
retold by Deborah

Holy God, where are You? I feel so all alone – an abandoned infant, cold and crying in the night; tossed into a dumpster, discarded with the trash.

Have You turned away from me, too? Are you so far away that You cannot hear my calls? Or have You chosen to ignore my suffering?

O my God, I am sobbing my heart out, but there is no response, day after day, night after long, lonely night.

Yet You are holy, the One lifted up on the praises of generations. You and I have a shared history; my ancestors put their trust in You, and were brought to safety. They called out to You, and You answered.

But I am a cockroach, an insect, inhuman; despised and avoided. A dweller in darkness, hidden from sight. People see me and recoil in horror and disgust; “So much for that ‘God’ business,” they shake their heads; “If there is a Guy in the sky, He’s supremely unreliable!”

Yet You were there at my beginning. You are the Giver of Life, I am its recipient and therefore not unworthy.

Don’t stay away, Holy One; danger is all around and no one else can help.

Troubles bear down on me like a freight train; I can feel the earth trembling beneath my feet and hear the shrieking whistle growing closer. The shadow of death looms over me, and I melt in terror.

There is no strength in me; my mind is wrapped in a fog and I can think of no solutions to my problems, but can only cry like a baby: Holy God, where are You?

About inklingscommunity

I am a struggling Christian, committed pacifist, near-obsessive recycler, incurable animal lover, inveterate tree-hugger; a nature mystic, a socialized introvert, an advocate for the vulnerable, an opponent of exploiters.
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