“I hope that I shall be able to confide in you completely, as I have never been able to do in anyone before, and I hope that you will be a great support and comfort to me.”
These words appear as the inscription at the beginning of Anne Frank’s journal. She speaks to blank pages; to a safe space in which she can pour out her every thought, her every emotion, her every experience – with no worries of being seen, scrutinized, unaccepted, misunderstood, too much, not enough, imperfect, unreasonable.
What if you could do the same?
What if you could confide in something or someone completely?
What stories would you tell? What secrets would you reveal? What tears would you shed? What anger would you scream? What desires would you whisper? What hopes would you barely breathe, yet tightly grip?
The list is long, no doubt. This is prayer. This is your prayer. Do you know it as such?
Can you imagine it?
Can you Will you repeat Anne’s words as though you were speaking directly to God?
Am I able to confide in You completely, as I have never been able to do in anyone before, and will You be a great support and comfort to me?
This is my deepest hope – for you.
It is also my deepest hope for myself.
I know it to be “true” intellectually – that God is good, trustworthy, supportive, and offering endless, vast, unlimited comfort. I can argue myself silly with all that spins in my head and heart “proving” this reality through theological precepts, Biblical stories, and learned liturgy. But still, my heart feels a hesitancy, a gap, a gasp, the slightest pause.
And in that smallest of spaces huge questions yawn:
Can I confide in You completely?
Will You be a support to me?
Will You comfort me?
I can picture Anne asking these questions.
I can picture Eve asking these questions.
I can picture Sarah or Hannah or Ruth or Deborah or Elizabeth or Mary asking these questions.
I can picture you asking these questions.
And I ask them nearly constantly. They are my endless prayer.
No matter my answers, no matter yours, these questions direct a lifetime of wonderment, discovery, mystery, faith, and doubt. Even more, they fuel a tenacious hope and endless prayer that the answer could possibly be “yes.”
May it be so. May it be true. In undisputed, unquestionable, unimaginable ways.