A Prayer for the Weak Lord, it is said You can be found in the presence of the weak and I believe those words for there have I seen in nuance and inference the delicate evidence of Your handiwork. In a shirtless child, covered in rashes and scabs, whose parents are thralls to demons of addiction, I sense Your stubborn, lingering presence. To my shame, I shun that dirty, stoic child. I hear Your silence in his silence, for children such as him do not sing, nor do they speak. They have been taught in most cruel terms the value of vanishing in the background. Perhaps, O Lord, you should reconsider the company You keep. What purpose do Your weak serve if not to elevate those whose strength defines their weakness? Perhaps, Almighty Lord, You would be better suited to take a place among the strong, for they reflect the omnipotence for which You are so highly regarded. Lord, leave the weak alone. You smother their song. For, unbeknownst to You, they do sing. An unholy psalm of truth escapes their lips, but only when they are sure that absolutely no one is listening.

A Prayer for the Weak David Keffer Knoxville, TN October 7, 2014

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