“Let me die, dear Lord” by Julia on Salt Spring Island

Friday May 18, 2018
10:22pm
5 minutes
The Birth House
Ami McKay

I am giving up my sad boots and asking for something a little less heavy. I want to tip toe toward you and maybe we can all quiet the floor. I want us to be happy. I don’t know how to make that sound better. No metaphors. No regrets. Happy and whole. You can take the old me and kill it. Ask someone if you need to use a particular tool to save the rest. What knife would the good Lord use? Let that one sing her last song at the moon and go gently into the earth. Only death can make room for new life. Only goodbye to sorrow can rebuild.

“Let me die, dear Lord” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Friday May 18, 2018
12:14pm
5 minutes
The Birth House
Ami McKay

Dear Lord,

Thank you for listening to my prayer. I’m sorry for bothering you. I know you’re a busy dude. You see I have a real problem and I figured if I’ve never called upon you before then now’s probably the time. You see, I drove Babs’ car into the big oak tree on Princess St. I did. I really did. I don’t have insurance, and I don’t hardly even have a license. I was on my way to visit Jeremy who just so happens to be in the hospital with a kidney stone (poor guy) and it would’ve taken me so dang long to walk there so I just decided to borrow Babs’ car as she was napping and I thought it’d be quick and easy. But it wasn’t! And now Babs’ car is wrapped around that oak tree and I’m sweating bullets.