Recite this catalogue of wrongs:
I loved this tree – if you loved me
I always knew – I told you so…
And all the while in Ninevah
the people weep in ash.
Uphold your cause; God may forget
the hurts you hold, the wounds you bear.
The tree’s shade is your natural right.
Shake fists; see God reply…
The merciful, the good, the just:
perhaps He lost, amidst the dust
of Ninevah your noble case.
You must bemoan your tree.
Or turn your eyes to kings in ash
and rags. See hearts turn round.
You know His name; you know the truth.
Turn, Jonah, and arise.
The Consolations of Writing 
Powerful stuff! One of my favorites. Keep up the good work.
I’ve got to read this again.
Thanks very much! This poem is one of those wonderful reminders of God crafting something true out of our dark moments.