The thing is, I miss Him.

You know how people always associate children with joy and freedom?

When I see a small child at a park, laughing and brimming with immense glee, of course my heart fills with joy. But beyond that joy, there is a sadness, isn't there?

There's something that is so happy and so sad at the same time about the scene.

It's rooted in envy. Found in what has been lost to me.

That I don't look like that anymore. That this child can be so surrounded with joy, while I cannot. I look closer at the scene laid out before me in my own imaginings and note that the sky really is bluer here. The clouds are whiter, the grass is greener, and the sun is brighter. The air even smells fresh; clearer here.

And the sadness creeps in again as I realize that in my current state, climbing up the slide will not provide the same joy to me.

I miss that swinging feeling.

Of course, I can still swing now. But though the swing remains completely unchanged, the girl climbing onto it has not.

I miss my God.

I miss the uncontainable joy and love and intimacy that once flowed between us. I look back to just two years ago when I first started college and encountered God face-to-face for the first time. The excitement. The passion. The fire. How worship used to move me. A powerful night of prayer would refresh my spirit, and God's whisper brought much comfort.

But now I need a shout.

Dear Lord I miss you.

- bcl.