There’s lots of us down here.
I don’t see how you can pick me out of the crowd.
I’ve always been told, or heard or read, that each soul is cherished, a treasure beyond counting.
But, I see prettier people than me, everywhere….
I know smarter people than I, everywhere.
I know funny people, I know happy people, I know goofy, crazy people, I know more interesting, more worldly people than me.
I know lots of people that I’d like to be that don’t know or ever heard of me.
Heck, if I passed ME on a sidewalk I probably wouldn’t even notice me.
So how can you see me, down here amongst the herd?
How can you make me out amidst the throng?
I don’t feel like a diamond in the rough.
I feel like a needle in a hay field…on double coupon day.
How can you tell the difference between he, she or me?
What makes me so much more valuable than falling sparrows….?
I know that I am not arrayed with beauty’s finery as the wildflowers Solomon saw in his dream….
Am I a flower…?
Am I a thorn in your side…?
How am I supposed to believe that I am special, that I am a ripple on a bigger pond, that I am not just another fish in the sea…?
How am I supposed to believe you even look at me?
How, can I possibly buy the fact that you would even notice I might go missing, someday…?
How can I believe that you know how many hairs are on my head?
How can I believe that I even matter to you, that you even worry about me…or us, down here?
How do I know you’re even listening to me?
How do I know you’re even real?
How do I know that being on my stupid knees in the middle of my bedroom, screaming at the ceiling, shaking my fists at the window, begging you for guidance, answers or, I don’t know, maybe I just wanna hear your voice for once!!
How do I know if all that hollering and shouting on my knees does any good at all!?
How do I know that you even give a damn about me or what I’m doing down here; what I’m doing just to get by day by day….?
I don’t know why!
Well, I kinda do…
I know you’re there…somewhere….
You see… A long time ago….
My grandmother told me you were there.
“Can you see, God?” asked Granny one Sunday, long ago, when I was just a little sparrow; not worth much, then.
I looked around the church with big eyes…
All I saw was people crying, singing or praying.
I saw lots of tears and smiles…
“I don’t see God, Granny” I said
She pointed around the church, to each individual Waldo….
“He’s there, and there, and there…”
I watched as her finger swept the room.
God was invisible and tickling everyone.
Then, she slowly, knowingly pointed at the ceiling, high, high above us; I had to squint to see the lights they were so high up…
She whispered “He’s in heaven, too”
I looked up at heaven…
Everyone knows heaven is, up…yonder.
I couldn’t see God but, I could hear people talking to him, all around us.
I looked at Granny and asked her
“God’s in heaven?” she nodded “Honest?” I queried further.
Granny crossed her heart and hoped to die or stick a needle in her eye…
That’s always been enough proof for me…
It’s a kid rule that can never be broken…
Granny knew you….
She said you’re real.
That’s all the faith I need, I guess.
If my Granny loved you, you must be ok.
I know you…
I know she’s there with you…. .
I know you because my Granny said you were there…