I wrote this sometime last year. Clearly, I was frustrated, but I don’t remember why… Crisis My words are not elegant or pretty They’re mostly angry and petty My frustration mounts as the days pass My hope and faith falter with each silent hour. And I question all the things you are Your love, your care, your plan In this crisis of faith my heart sinks below the waves struggling for air. But I find that through it all I know you are here I don’t understand and I can’t hear you But I know you are here In the emptiness I find you.