Path Forward - 23. Dear God

Dear God

By Brandon Haines

Dear God,

I didn’t come with polished words tonight.

Just the ones that survived the day.

The ones that tremble a little

when I try to speak them out loud.

You know the cracks I carry.

You know the ones I hide.

You know the places in my heart

that I pretend are mended,

but they are still broken —

not because You haven’t touched them,

but because they were so shattered

they need more time to mend.

But You’ve never asked me to shine for You.

Only to stay.

Only to turn my tear‑stricken face toward Yours

even when my hands are empty.

So here I am —

willing to be mended,

willing to be Yours.

And maybe that’s the truest prayer I have.

So willing to be Yours —

even though right now

I don’t have the strength

to stand on my own.

I know You can use these pieces,

so take them.

I know You can fill these seams,

so fill them.

I know You can make something whole

out of what I’ve been carrying,

so let it be Your story,

not mine.

Dear God,

I’m still here.

And You are too.

So thank You

for every place You’ve touched

that I thought was beyond repair.

Thank You for mending

what I believed was lost forever.

Thank You for gathering

my shattered heart in Your hands

and making it beat again.