Taylor Lanson Taylor Lanson
Recommendations: 13

"I can still cry, and that's good." I love that.

Harry Wells Harry Wells
Recommendations: 15

Others have already commented on the spiritual aspect of your poem so I'll confine myself to its structure. It is very well written and presented. Spaces between paragraphs invite reading. I like the way the last lines in each paragraph lead me to continue to the next. You include a lot of interesting detail. The following is a lovely line. 'The moon winks in and out of these openings, as its light silvers the edges of the clouds.' Well done!

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Jim Miller Jim Miller
Recommendations: 29

My Presence Is With You


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She had a friend.

Truth trumps feelings every time.  When did I learn this?  Read below.



I awake.  It is very early in the morning, not much past midnight.  The rest of the household is sleeping.  My wife is in the bed beside me.  We are not at home, but at my mother’s house; it is the day before Easter, and I am not at peace.


As I regain consciousness, my inner pain and turmoil return.  The depression is still stalking me.  It constantly pulls me down.  All of me…my mood, my energy, my zeal for life, drowned in the uncaring depths---bathed in its painful, gray apathy.  With great dread, I recall last year when I spent my favorite holiday, Easter, on the psychiatric ward of a hospital.


I cry to myself softly.  I can still cry, and that’s good.  It is much worse when I can no longer even cry.  Quietly, I get dressed in the darkness and feel my way down the steep stairway to the first floor.  I peer out the windows into the darkness.  I see moonlight reflecting off a metal surface.   I sense the dim landscape.  It all seems like a strange dream to me.  Once again, I begin to whimper softly to myself. 1 comment


Now l feel the urge to be outside where I can be alone to deal with the intensity of my emotions, so I step out into the darkness and begin to walk around my mother’s farm.  I wander out to the barn, and around the hog shed, and then out to the pine grove.  My sobs are no longer hushed, but swiftly escalating to cathartic cries of anguish.   “God, please help me!  Please help me get better!  I don’t want to be depressed anymore!  Help me!”


I cross over to the machine shed and then to the garden, seeking Him and the relief that I pray He will bring.  I continue walking, pacing all around, and retracing my steps all throughout the farm.  And then I walk down the lane and out onto the gravel road.  I am somewhat cleansed by the walking, the tears, and the prayers, but the hollow feelings and the achiness are still not gone.


I look up into the heavens.  There, cumulostratus clouds drift before a bright quarter moon.  Irregular gaps form and move with the clouds.  The moon winks in and out of these openings, as its light silvers the edges of the clouds. 1 comment


“God!” I cry out.  “I know that You say that an evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign.  I’m sorry.  But I really need a sign.  I don’t think I’ll make it otherwise.  Please give me a sign that I will make it…  That it will get better.”  I wait expectantly for an answer.  I really believe that He is going to answer me.  I continue to scan the sky for something extraordinary, believing the answer will appear there…“Maybe a display of the moon shining through a tremendous cross-shaped opening in the clouds,” I imagine.


I look and wait, but nothing happens and I almost begin to cry again.  But then it gets very still…supernaturally quiet.  That gets my attention.  I hear a voice inside of me, not an audible one, but very distinct, and more than just a thought.  I believe it to be the voice of God.  The words that I “hear” are, “My presence is with you always.”


And being a man of great faith and wisdom (dripping with sarcasm, here), I say, “But I don’t feel Your presence!”


“My presence is with you always,” the voice repeats with quiet, earnest sincerity.  And then all is silent.


By this circumstance in my life, God helped me to know that His truth is much stronger than my feelings.  After listening to the statement that He made to me, I went back inside, went to bed, slept through the night, woke up, and attended Easter Services with my mother and family.  My depression was much abated, and I knew that God was with me, no matter how I felt.


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