Hallelujah

He stood in the kitchen, glass from vases and windows scattered around him and dusted the entire floor. The sound of the screen door slamming and his heart shattering for the final time was all that was audible in the now eerily silent room. Feeling numb, he felt the tears streaming down his face. It was then that he finally heard the sound of his own sobs, nearly choking on them as he finally broke down.

Being so overcome by his own heart tearing itself out of his chest and his sobs ripping at his throat, he found himself getting down on his hands and knees. The glass crunched as it dug into his skin, though this pain was nothing compared to the shattering of his entire being. It was taken happily if it would distract him from his mental decay.

Who knew that a woman that hadn't belonged to him in the first place would bring him to his ultimate downfall. He now understood the pain of Samson after Delilah tied him to a kitchen chair and cut his hair, stripping him of his strength. He now understood the pain of King David after he took a woman that didn't belong to him and he turned his back on God. He had done just as Samson and King David and turned his back on God for a woman whose beauty was as immense as her insidious intentions.

For the first time in months, he sat upright on his knees, his hands turned upward and resting on his thighs, admitting defeat to a God he thought had turned His back on him when he had done similarly. He didn't expect God to show him any sign of mercy, to show that in the end, He had won again. He had sinned, he had coveted, he had taken something that did not belong to him, and in the end, it was God who triumphed over him. "You've won, God, are you happy that I'm finally on my knees before you broken and in need?" he sputtered bitterly out over his sobs, keeping his eyes closed as his head was tilted upwards to the Heavens.

There was no response, just as he had expected. He felt nothing move him, he didn't feel the power of God like he used to when he would get on his knees and pray for forgiveness. In one final attempt, he folded and clasped his hands together, squeezing his eyes tight and forcing himself to fully believe this time. If he truly believed that God would help him, He would. "And even though it went all wrong and I strayed from you, I still need you, God. I need you to move me again, I need to feel your arms around me, I need you to push me in the right direction. Please, God, give me any sort of sign that you haven't forsaken me and turned your back on me when I need you the most," he pleaded, still heaving heavy, broken sobs between his prayers.

He sat in this position for awhile, ignoring the blood staining his hands and the glass stinging in his palms. Finally, the spirit of the Lord washed over him, cleansing the cuts that rankled in his skin and on his heart, drying his tears and mending his soul. When he felt it, he let out a breath that contained a holy, yet broken and almost inaudible "Hallelujah. . ."