I couldn’t pray. I didn’t dare to.

In the most secret place of my soul

I wanted to beg the Lord

to reveal himself in power.

I wanted to tell him that it was time for his coming.

If there was anything at all

to what he had promised,

why didn’t he come in glory with angels

and lay his hands on the hurt children

and awaken the dead soldiers

and restore the burned villages

and the blasted and poisoned land?

Why didn’t he cow our arrogance?…

But thinking such things was

as dangerous as praying them.

I knew who had thought such thoughts before:

“Let Christ the king of Israel descend now

from the cross, that we may see and believe.”

from Jayber Crow