Prayer #104: Forgotten

I crawled out of bed as soon as I'd burrowed in because I remembered I forgot I'd remembered to post a prayer today. So here you go -- a short one to cap a long day.

Prayer #104: Forgotten

You're tickling my rib cage, begging my attention. I'm only half listening, though, focused instead on my lack of focus.

Filmy mirages flit across my dreams more these days. I grasp at the mist and grab nothing every time. But I can't shake the feeling that soon I'll thrust my hand into the shimmer and come away with a fistful of tangible ... tangible ...

Tangible what exactly? Answers? Suggestions? Hints? A clearly marked map would work just fine. Feel free to mark X at the spot. Any spot. And then tell me what the spot entails.

But no. That would be too easy. Instead, You knock at my ribs in Morse code, nowhere near an X -- just a stream of incomprehensible taps for which I have no decoder chart.

This much I know: You're asking me to forget the rest of the world and stick by You to find what's hiding in the mist. Forgive me if I'm not so eager to fall in line. I find it hard to forget what I don't know yet.