A Hill to Die On

A Serious Matter

On top of a dirt

hill, set in a field of weeds,

a block from my house,

I would talk to God.

I asked for signs—birds flying—   

one for yes, two no.

I was a young teen,

and knew it was stupid, but

what else could I do?

If I had stopped there, 

because I didn't believe

the birds were answers,

Or no birds came, or

the wrong number flew past, but...

I didn't give up.

For years I prayed, not

on that hill—they knocked it down—         

where I went, I prayed.

I just talked to God.

Then my boyfriend overdosed.

I cried on my knees.

I cried out for hours,

it seemed, and then God answered.

Peace overcame me.

I knew Scott was healed.

I was in another state,

I was miles away—   

When I got back home,

I found that God had indeed

healed Scott, answered me.

That was long ago.

It really happened, but it

was just a beginning.   

Don't stop seeking God.

He answers all the time now.

I had to not quit.