I’m not cut out for this God. I need grace to find me in a bad way. I won’t respond well to anger or harsh yelling. I need tender mercy like a newborn needs her mother.

The way I feel;  beat up and broken, goes deeper than my bones; it’s like a suffocation of my soul. How long before I can take a deep breath? How long before some weight is lifted? How long before I feel put back together? How long before love replaces my song of anguish? I’m not sure you understand how worn out I am, how little I have left in the tank. It’s like I’m dead on the inside, going through the motions because I don’t know what else to do. I’m so done with ending my day the same way over and over again; falling asleep unsure of myself, unsure where to find your compassion and love.

So show up! Do something! Deliver! Save! Hope fades and my eyes grow heavy with grief. The last morsel of hope I gather up is the possibility that right now you hear me. That somehow you take delight in my stripped down and honest cry. That before too much longer you’ll show me how to recover the pieces of myself I have lost. I’m so very tired of my current reality. I’m desperate for a glimpse of something new.

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