Maybe if I clasp my hands just right, and get down on my knees. Maybe if I conjure up tears, and ask enough times, He’ll come back to me. He’ll tell me that He was never really gone. He’ll rekindle the fire in my heart that has faded to a smoldering pile of lukewarm ashes.

Maybe I’ll read my Bible more. And start praying again. Maybe I’ll wake up early and go to church services before work. We both know that I’ll just be counting the minutes until the sermon is done, but surely it must count for something?

I’ve never be apart from Him for this long before. Often, I wonder if I was ever really His. Maybe I never received the call; maybe it was just a wrong number.