Broken Bones

Psalm 51 was read during the Sunday morning service. My eyes have seen those words before....many times....but they were never felt. It was never personal. Until Sunday. A lump formed in my throat when we read verse 8. "Make me to hear the joy and gladness, Let the bones which You have broken rejoice." Eight years ago my Father allowed my bones to be broken. I still don't understand why. I still don't accept it. I've taken these eight years to harbor anger and bitterness, and I've slowly watched as my faith has slipped away. Willingly. "Sorry God. You had Your chance to prove Yourself. If only You had come through for me..." My broken bones have not rejoiced. May this, dear Lord, be my heart-felt prayer for the next eight.