Dear Jesus,
It's Sunday- the end of a long week or-
No, 
The beginning of a long week-
And I'm tired,
So tired.

I'm trying to decide which book to read
So I balance a stack of three on my belly and
Stare out the window:
A cardinal scratches in the dirt beneath the 
Now empty bird feeder.
Out past the bare trees, the ducks
Pace up and down the long driveway,
Between frozen pond
And my back door,
As if to ask
"Why?"

Oh the gap between
The reality of this frozen February day and 
Their expectations.

I lie back, 
Fold my hands over my heart,
Close my eyes to the 
World, and 
Open them
To You.

And it's like I'm back, thirty years ago,
Talking to my mother:
I throw open the back door, 
Toss my backpack 
In a kitchen chair, 
And pour everything out
to You-
Apologizing as always
Comes first and then
My anxieties and fears,
Followed by
All the 
Injustices of the world, 
But in the end, 
I'm asking
Why, just
Why? 

And I have no answers a duck would understand
As to why their pond is frozen
(how to explain temperature dependent states of matter and 
seasonal temperature shifts to ducks?)
And today, 
You have no answers that I can
Understand.

Your ways are not my ways
And I cannot see where these black 
Puzzle pieces fit into Your 
Design.

But still, 
Lord, help me to trust,
So that I may always 
Truthfully proclaim,
Jesus, I trust in You.