Blessing in disguised
“Blessing in disguised”
We kneel with lists in trembling hands,
as if the sky were deaf to need,
and whisper, “Give us strength, O Lord,”
while standing in the very storm
that grows it in our bones.
We beg for courage,
but curse the dark.
We ask for patience,
then rage at waiting.
We pray for brighter roads,
yet scorn the night that shapes our sight.
We say He is silent
when the answer comes as struggle.
We call Him distant
when He stands disguised as trial.
We ask for wings
He gives us wind.
We ask for faith
He gives us falling.
And when our knees grow tired,
we sigh, “Why me?”
as though love were measured
only in comfort,
as though mercy never wore
the face of fire.
Perhaps He makes us weak
so we will learn the weight of breath,
so fragile hands can learn to hold,
so empty hearts can learn to trust.
Perhaps the breaking
is the blessing.
He is there
not always as we wish,
not always as we plan
but steady as the sunrise
we forget to thank.
And still we ask for strength,
not seeing
that every scar is proof
we’ve already been given
more than we knew.
Copyright © Joanna Kowalska | Year Posted 2026
|