It’s strange the difference that time can make.
A year ago today, I would have bled to turn your gaze in my direction.
I understood the passion of zealots back then,
had all the willingness to suffer as a hopeless man looking to God for help.
What was suffering when that was all you knew?
What was suffering in the face of salvation?
I know now it was still suffering.
A year ago today, I did not understand why you never answered my calls
no matter the way I cried your name—
with joy or tears or through bloody, clenched teeth.
I thought I had to sacrifice more to get your attention back then,
to destroy more parts of myself I could never replace to prove my loyalty,
to die on your altar just to feel some semblance of favor.
A year ago today, I would have continued to drag myself
through the desert towards a land you never promised me.
I know now that there is some peace in losing faith.