Dear God... I ain't coming polished tonight. I ain't coming with church words. I'm coming angry. Because I know You're there. And that's exactly why this hurts. You know I remember every time You came through, When my credit was bad, somehow a car came through. When I had nowhere solid, there was still a couch, Still food in my stomach, still mercy in the air. I remember that night I was cracked down to the bone, Prayed to be held 'cause I couldn't stand alone. And I swear I felt arms wrap around me in that room, No crowd, no preacher, just me reaching out to You. Don't think I'm saying You never showed. I've seen too much grace on too many broken roads. I've written Your name in songs, praised You through rain, Told people You were with me when I couldn't explain it. That's why I'm here now with my fists in the prayer, Because I know what it feels like when I know You are there. I know You're listening... So why won't You answer me? Why? Why won't You answer me? I'm begging, pleading, give me something I can read, A door, a word, a sign of what You need. I want the stable back, I want the horses in my days, I want honest work beneath me, not another empty wait. I keep hearing, "Trust the timing. Just have faith." How much longer do I stand here while the road gets washed away? What the fuck do You expect me to do with silence as a guide? You taught me how to trust You, now You're nowhere in the night. I prayed for work. I pushed. I called until I'm numb. If You're closing every door, tell me where to run. Don't hand me another lesson wrapped in patience and delay. God, what do You want me to do today? I know You're fucking listening. So why aren't You answering me? This is fucking bullshit. Answer me. Job filled his mouth with arguments and stated his case. Jacob held through darkness, wouldn't turn away. Jeremiah cursed his sorrow, Habakkuk cried, "How long?" Don't tell me faith means smiling while it all goes wrong. Your people fought You, questioned You, still called You God. I'm wrestling now with both feet buried in mud. I'm angry because I know You. I'm loud because You taught me that prayer ain't decoration and faith ain't being numb. Give me an account. Give me a reason. Give me the answer that I seek. If I am wrong, then break me open. If I should wait, then fucking speak. Do You really want me walking? Do You really want me gone? Do You want me throwing everything I've known beyond the edge, tired of screaming prayers into the black? Would You watch me turn? Would You let me not come back? I say I'll walk away from You, but both of us know that's a lie. I've seen too much grace to say You never crossed my life. That's why I'm fucking furious. That's what keeps me on this floor. I know what You can do, God. I've watched You do it before. So why now? Why the silence? Why the waiting? Why this wall? I'm not asking for a kingdom. I'm not asking for a throne. I want work that means something. I want horses. I want home. If the answer isn't what I want, then fine, but let it come. Don't leave me guessing what You want while You sit there fucking numb. Answer me. Answer me. ANSWER ME. I am begging, I am pleading, I am pissed and I am scared. I'm standing here demanding You prove You're fucking there. Not because I never knew You. Not because I don't believe. Every answered prayer makes this harder to receive. You want me faithful? Then wrestle. You want me waiting? Tell me why. You want me broken? Look at me. You want me trusting? Then reply. Fuck You, God! Yeah, I said it. Now what? Strike me down or answer back. I've praised You with nothing. I've carried You through tracks. I've thanked You for shelter, for the food, for every road, for the night I begged comfort and I swear You fucking showed. So what changed? Was it me? Is there something I can't see? I don't need slogans. I don't need a quote. I need You. Right here. Right now. Put Your answer in my throat. I said I might walk away... but I'm still here. Still yelling. Still praying. Still waiting for Your voice. Goddammit... Why am I still talking to You?
