St. Hildegard's prayers just have a way of cutting through to the heart of the matter. This one's taken from her book Scivias, and has the look, feel, and sound of a Psalm!
O God, have you not created me?
The wretchedness of earth presses down upon me!
And so I must flee and hide myself from you like Adam.
My sinful life wants to know nothing about you.
I doubt in a sense of justice;
the battle robs me of all happiness.
Do I even know if God exists?
Where is then my King and God?
Over this past year my troubles have been relational. These troubles have settled somewhat, and I've gained a measure of peace, but just when the horizon seemed to be clearing, more dark clouds emerged.
Work is extremely hard these days. I feel pressure mounting, and doubt is once again invading my life.
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