Sometimes, you have to go to your son’s grave
and just let yourself be broken.
Sometimes you have to weep
deep, wrenching, breathtaking sobs
for the cancer discovered in your mom’s stomach
for relationships on the edge of brokenness
for the deep realization that you have forgotten how to trust
for the fear that you no longer know how to love
for the disappointment of unrealized dreams
for the worries that tomorrow will be no better than today
for the wounds you thought had healed
for the fact that, despite your effort to fool God
into thinking that this was the year for joy,
you’re getting thrust into even more pain
for the lessons you still have to learn about surrender
for the fact that the only prayer you know how to whisper is
“God, what the fuck?”
Sometimes there is no pretty ribbon to put on a blog post
to make the end seem more hopeful than the beginning.
Sometimes all you can do
is let yourself be broken.