What’s the difference between begging and praying? I was once taught that we pray so that our desires might align with God’s plans; in other words, prayer is a long slow submission. I don’t beg people, I mostly have begged God but usually with resignation. By the time I get to begging, it seems to me I have already given up on an alternate.

I don’t beg much in person. I think I’m too proud to ever let me guard down enough for anyone to see me that vulnerable, to see me in that much ‘want’. The substitute for begging is complicit silence. However I am no longer convinced that silence can be strong. 

I don’t want to beg because begging seems already resigned to a negative outcome. I don’t want to beg because I’m too proud. I don’t want to beg because it feels demeaning to everyone. Unless it’s me begging me. That I can do because I don’t mind my own vulnerability and authenticity. 

I’m begging me to stay true to the course and not give up. Honestly, that’s what I’m begging. I’m resigned to the inevitability that I will give up. I will give up on certain desires and certain plans because all seems lost and futile and pointless. I’m begging me to see things in reverse. I’m begging myself to change my perspective on begging, just so I’m prepared to give myself another chance. 

I’m begging for endurance through the early mornings and the long, late night phone calls that come with the career choices I’ve made. I’m begging for strength in the middle of loneliness, when doing the right thing feels worse that doing the wrong thing. I don’t want to judge but I’m judging away – I don’t want to fail where others have failed or become another ‘coulda been, shoulda been’ story. I’m begging myself to break the mood and the pattern woven into my code – I want to take the path untrodden and make my own way through the forest but it sure as heck gets dark out here sometimes.

I want to believe that I’ll make it through – that I won’t succumb to the fate that haunts me. Sometimes I do think about what I’ve come through so far and how it hasn’t happened yet – the day I can’t quite climb over the shadows, but I haven’t given up yet. Not quitting requires more energy than anything else in my life. But what would I be if I just gave up?

It wouldn’t be one of those peaceful, effort relaxations into a calmer pace of life. It would be a slamming, screeching and anxious race to the stop sign. So I beg myself not to quit and I’m begging you not to let me either. Don’t let me give up on myself or the dream. I’m begging you not to let me go too long without sunshine or love or playfulness. Don’t let me get too close to the cliffs or to the rocks – on the day I can’t go any further, don’t let me give up.