He threw me the softball.
He held me tight.
He threw me in the air.

He left me alone.

The earth gives us Fathers.
Mine was all I could fit in my heart.

His prison cell was my reason.

My reason to hate, to blame, to run, to dive into the arms of others.
My reason to dance with dangerous desires.
My answer for addiction.
My excuse for everything.

It was his fault I was broken.

Everything I did
I did because.
Because he left.

And the hole in my heart was raw.
Nerve endings and blood and vessels and pain.

Until Abba.
My only heart-filling is from Abba.
I cannot run from Him.

He doesn’t leave.

I can try to ignore, to blame, to seek.
But He knows me.
I fall on my face before Him.
I find Him in my prayer closet and cry out.

This broken mess of me belongs to Him.

And the beauty that remains is only He that remains in me.