I've knocked my head against the wall until I bleed. This is what it took to get my attention. I seemed to take the hard way, the road less traveled. I've started my life over again many, many times. Started from scratch. From nothing. Each time a little further along this Crooked Path. I began as a lump of clay, cast into the mud along with the rest of the muck. I managed to crawl upon the shore and bake myself in the sun until I was cracked and bleeding. This is a process I repeated over and over again. I would then retreat back into the muck seeking the cool mud to soothe, only to realize that I must push myself up and out. At last, finding myself on the path, head up, shoulders back, I trudged forward tentatively, turning left when I should have turned right. Backing up and taking a different turn at times, but always the way that I wanted. Not what was best. But what I wanted. I knew that the outcome would be the same. Finally, one day as I was sitting in the mud once again, I bowed my head. I had prayed many times, but not like this. I prayed, not to be lead to the right path. Not to be helped from the mud. I prayed instead to see; see the hand that had always been there. The arms that had always welcomed me. I prayed for faith. Copyright (C) 2020 Penny Wilson My path to God has been a very long one. I came to Him late in life. This is my expression of that journey. I still struggle, but my prayers have been answered tenfold. A very special Thank You to Chuck, at The Reluctant Poet. He gave me the line, 'The Crooked Path' that inspired this piece. Thank you for joining me on this journey. Penny <3
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