Why me? I hear her moan;

Why this broken mess?

Why am I all alone—

toiling daily, while he’s free?

Why, why, why, God?

Why me?


Why me? I look above;

Why do you never quit?

Why do you love, love,

love me? You never flee,

You take delight…Why, God?

Why me?


Why me? I hear her cry;

Why all of my friends?

Why doesn’t someone try

to love me in all my debris?

Will no man choose me, God?

Why me?


Why me? I look around;

Why his lavish love?

It overwhelms, astounds,

builds up, inspires, sets free.

Why I whisper, Why, God?

Why me?

Johanna Byrkett

Johanna Byrkett

Johanna (Jody) Byrkett enjoys hiking various types of terrain, foggy mornings and steaming mugs of tea, reading classic literature and theological essays, studying words and their origins, and practising the art of hospitality. (She also has the singularly annoying habit of spelling things 'Britishly'.)

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