Prodigal Poet: An Ecclectic Offering on God, Shakespeare, and the Beatles

There have been times in my life when I truly wonder where is the mercy. Where has God gone? And why has so much painful suffering been allowed to endure? Enough of those times have been for my own plights . . . but tonight . . . tonight I am left bewildered as to why my brother, sister-in-law, and two nieces have had a lifetime of burdens weighed upon them in the last several months. They have had more than their share of burdens for years now, but the last several months have been particularly difficult. My seven-year old niece, BryAnna, whom I have written about before was born with Treacher-Collins Syndrome. From her first moments in this world she has been poked and prodded by countless doctors, had innumerable trips down to Riley Hospital, and stubbornly made it through dozens of surgeries . . . at just seven years old. Where is God's mercy and grace through all of this? Well, to be quite frank, it is often times difficult to tell. We all wonder why any child should h

Sometimes I forget just how much I take things for granted . . . how quickly my life could be altered forever with a mere whisp of change. I sometimes forget how easily my "normal" could be shifted. All it takes sometimes is a small occurrence -- a mere blurb on the grand scale of time. I am often telling myself how I should be more grateful, and not just in saying it every so often, but showing it, living it, breathing it. So often while I pray I tell God how sorry I am for not appreciating all the things I've been given. How I'm an ungrateful little cretin. And then . . . I do what human nature calls me to do . . . I forget again. It's not that I mean to be unappreciative. I don't think anyone means to be that way. It's just normal. It's normal to get caught up in our daily to-do's, lists, stress, etc. I think we're just wired that way. It's not an excuse, just a reason. It's arguable how good of a reason it is. And I'