amber, but far too bright
seem to grow with a crazy hot intensity
as children grow more restless
crying
singing discordantly
squirming
somewhere, an angry buzz
like a wasp from a 1930's sci-fi thriller about Martians
drills into my brain
severing whatever devotion to faith or obedience I had left
through the painful cacophony
of screaming toddlers and general shuffling noises
that bother only those with migraines
or Fibromyalgia
(or both)
is it feedback from a mic? Someone's cell phone?
Why is it resonating above all else and shattering my head like crystal?
The electronic audio poison continues.
Bored and wiggling kiddlets still yell and assault my nerves.
I ready myself to leave,
gathering my scriptures, and lightly cursing children
but mostly cursing me and this body
that cannot abide a spirit who wants to feast.
But then
the speaker says something that I can HEAR
spiritual balm for my soul
and for a few minutes... maybe 3 or 4
I can hold on.
His words are the light at the end of the tunnel...
Or rather, since light right now is as abhorrent as noise
Cool, Rich, Darkness.
Because the Lord knows what we need
even if we only get
just enough to hold out
till the benediction
before racing home to bed and dark and meds and despair.
But maybe, just a little less despair than if we had skipped church completely?
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