Medication

Fourteen little pink and white
pills in a new bottle with a purple
lid sold over the counter to keep
my stomach from the feeling of eating
itself.

They are the weakest of my pills.

Thirty small white pills
plus thirty larger ones
which together happen to be the maximum
amount allowed for this medication
against depression.

These are not over-the-counter pills.

Twenty-seven blue pills left
to ingest that could have brought
on serious complications when I
titrated up to the therapeutic levels of
the mood stabilizer.

This is a cherished pill.

One hundred and eighty pink pills to take
twice every day with a quick
half-life that burns through and
wards off my anxiety.

There are silver bullet pills.

One white pill every night
that makes me dream in
different ways while walling
off my mania and guarding it as
antipsychotics are supposed to do.

It hurts to miss this pill.

Ninety thick white oval pills
scheduled every evening in order
to keep heart failure from inevitably
stalking me with high cholesterol
that family handed down to me.

All the tests are passed with this pill.

Seven pills a day
that I desperately need to function
in society and my own skin
and without which disease
stalks me until the day I die.

These are my prayers.

I am in the process of becoming a community chaplain with The Order of Hildegard. This program is designed to help form people into spiritual leaders that lead and serve from the margins. It’s for the people who don’t quite fit with the traditional church because of trauma, disability, or identity. If you, as my community, would like to help me fulfill the financial obligation this chaplaincy program has, you can give at the link below. Thank you for the myriad ways you support me.

If you’re aching to listen for God in the real stuff of life—grief, wonder, doubt, desire—I offer spiritual direction as a space to breathe and be heard. We listen together for the Spirit moving in the ordinary, the hidden, the in-between. No fixing. No formulas. Just presence, honesty, and room to be fully human before God.

If that sounds like what your soul needs, I’d love to walk with you