Go Back To Bed

It’s a dreary day outside.

Go back to bed.

Alan Kurdi is dead.

Go back to bed.

Your eyes sting from not enough sleep.

Go back to bed.


You have beautiful children.

You’ll never have children.

You long for a mate.

You take them for granted.

Go back to bed.


You have a complicated relationship with your mother.

You’re 20 pounds overweight.

There’s no tasty food in the house.

You have a home.

You’re loved.

You are lucky, so, so, very lucky.

Go back to bed.


It’s okay.

Go back to bed.

No need to find the light or pick up your socks or get an attitude adjustment.

Just lie down.

It’s not an escape technique, you’re not in denial, just take a moment and rest.





Try not to think about the specifics stories, instead, fill up with the feelings of the contradictions; the complications, the wrongness of it all, and the tiny heartbreaking perfections.


You won’t burst.

Yes, there is much worse happening than to you.

It’s okay to be ashamed.

It’s alright that you probably don’t deserve it.

And there’s no time.

But do it anyway.

Just for 5 min.

Go back to bed.


And that place in your throat where the grief lives.

Touch it.


This is your offering to the pain out there.

To join in for a moment.

Instead of reaching for the light, stay right where you are.

In prayer.