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Writer's picturevandenbosschegael

Prayer


Hey...uhm, God, I guess? Jehovah? Is that too informal? I don't want to just refer to your job title. I'm a plumber and if I went to someone's house and they referred to me as plumber the whole time, that would, I wouldn't like that. Anyway, sorry don't mean to waffle.


I know I haven't turned to You in a while or...thought about You much at all, really, sorry. Mum tried too hard to beat You into me I think and all she did was beat You out of me. Does that mean she failed or did I? Maybe we both did. You took her yesterday so I'm sure she knows now. I'll still have to find out.


I did something bad. Well, I almost did but that might be worse. It's Leanne, I nearly...I didn't do it you know, but I nearly did, I almost struck her. It wasn't her fault. Well it was but that doesn't mean you can just...she left her bike unlocked.


In the middle of the street, brand new bike. I told her, I told her never, ever, ever forget to lock it before you leave it somewhere. And the next day, the next day, she does exactly that and she turned around and her bike was wrong. I could tell the moment she walked into the living room, head down, tiny steps, I knew but I waited for her to tell me and...I just, I lost it. I lost it.


I don't remember what I said. But I yelled it. I screamed it at her. I hit the table and I lifted my hand to do the same to her and, she was looking up at me. She was looking up at me and...the way she looked at me...no dad should see their daughter looking up at them like that. She looked so small and she was so scared and she was...just trying to hold it all in. All of it, the fear, the shame, the sadness...lot of emotion to bottle up in such a tiny body. I didn't though. I didn't do it. I left the room. But she's...she's still scared of me. I walked past her in the hall the other day and she flinched. She flinched. From me. She thinks I would hurt her. She thinks I want to hurt her. And I, I don't know how to fix it, Lord. I don't know what I'm supposed to tell her.


I haven't told her her grandma is dead yet. I need to do it soon, but I can't even...what if I lose my temper again? She loves that woman. If she knew the beating her grandma would have put on her for losing that bike if she was her mother. It would have gone on for minutes. I don't want to become that. And now I'm, I'm afraid I could. I really could, Lord. So I guess, what I'm asking for, I'm asking for the strength to do stay my hand. Help me resist my impulses, help me stay good, help me talk to my daughter.


Amen.


That's, that's what you say at the end, right?

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