I could not come this time and stand on my feet. 
I just thought of you and sank. 
"I'm tough, I'm tough," I told myself...
but I fell apart. 
Thin arms cling lightly to my sunken chest. 
I hold my breath. 
Your sad eyes droop with hopelessness, 
and I feel like I'm dying with you. 
And I hold your toothpick ribcage. 
And I pray aloud into your ear, 
"Lord what would you have of me? 
To plead before You for this child? 
Why does faith seem so foreign to me now?" 
Every time I see your beautiful faces in my thoughts, 
or in something I see, may faith stand firm. 
Let it grow from grace I have received 
and know that this grace abounds to you so far away.