Job's Modern Lament

.There’s only so much
a person can take, Lord.
Murder, abuse, abandonment,
and then self-punishment
because surely you wouldn’t 
allow someone to go through all this
unless they deserved it, right?
At least if we punish ourselves
we get to control
when the shit hits the fan
so we can take cover ahead of time.

If you said  
you wouldn’t put anyone
through more than they can handle,
then you lied.  

I did all the work.
I sought your wisdom,
and I didn’t turn aside 
to the women calling to me
to come play in the marketplace.
I stayed faithful,
though love too often went unmade.
I stood up for what was right,
but I wasn’t blessed
when I was persecuted
for your name’s sake.  

Evidently your providence
only seems to cover some--
your elect?
Well, I guess I’m not one.  
The whole thing
seems fixed somehow,
fixed against me.

Yes, I hear how this lament
is centered on me
not you. 
I know how purposeless it is
to bring you to my court
when you are Justice itself
working in mysterious surprise 
I cannot foresee
but only go  with,
surfing the words
as they come.  

I am no lawyer,
only innocent guilty plaintiff
who’s been wiped out
time and time again,
going under for the last time.

But if it please the court,
may we dispense with closing arguments 
about ostrich parenting
and mighty wild animals of your creation?  
I remember who I am 
in your grand scheme.
I'm requesting that you 
assign me an Advocate
and call off your behemoth Adversary.  
I know my place—solely at your mercy--  
and I am grateful to be alive
to raise lament at all.  

At least mostly.
I know this--
in my head, 
and maybe even in my heart.
But not in my bowels,
so I'm keeping a wary eye on you.
In the meantime,
hang with me
while the jury's still out
trying to convince 
my constipated soul 
of what's so obviously true,
please?

         © 2012 Tess  Lockhart. All rights  reserved.