Hear My Prayer

When you need to remember — that You're still my Shepherd.

There are stretches where you feel like the only one who knows how alone you are. Friends are around, but they cannot reach the part of you that is in the wilderness. You pray, and the prayer feels thin. You eat, but the food does not satisfy. You sleep, but you wake up tired in a way rest cannot fix. You are not asking for everyone to understand. You are asking God to hear — even one cry — and not hide His face from you in the day you finally decided to call.

This cry does not edit the loneliness. "Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my cry come to You. Do not hide Your face from me in the day of my distress; incline Your ear to me; in the day I call, answer me speedily." Desperate, immediate, unfiltered. Then he names what the inside feels like: "For my days vanish like smoke, and my bones are burned like a furnace. My heart is stricken and withered like grass, so that I forget to eat my bread." The body and the soul are both telling the same story. Then comes the imagery that makes this prayer unforgettable: "I am like a pelican of the wilderness; I am like an owl among ruins. I watch, and am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop." Three pictures of solitude in a row — birds in the wrong habitat, awake when they should be sleeping, exposed. He does not soften the public part either: "My enemies reproach me all the day long; those who deride me have sworn against me. For I eat ashes like bread and mingle my drink with tears." This is grief that has not made it onto anyone else's calendar. Then one line breaks through the smoke: "He regards the prayer of the destitute and does not despise their prayer." The rooftop cry is heard.

• Right now, say one unedited sentence to God about how alone you have felt — without faking the turn at the end. • Write this down: "What part of my grief has not been spoken to anyone — including God — yet?" • Repeat this line when isolation feels final: "I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop — and He still hears me."

Stop. Breathe. Let the owl among the ruins be your honest picture tonight. Then tell Him exactly where you have been waiting to be heard — out loud if you can.

God, hear my prayer, and let my cry come to You. Do not hide Your face from me on the day I finally decided to call. You see how my days are vanishing like smoke and how I have stopped eating like a person who is okay. I have felt like a lonely sparrow on the housetop — exposed, awake when others sleep, unable to fly back to where I belong. Incline Your ear; answer me speedily; do not leave me up here alone. You're still my Shepherd.

Even the lonely sparrow on the housetop is still in His sight.