Oh my God,
I sure hope You can hear me.
It isn’t like people think:
there isn’t anything grand
or ennobling
or spiritually enriching
going on.

This struggle
doesn’t improve my character,
I haven't become
a better person,
a fount of wisdom,
or a hero
to point to with pride.

I’m just me:
the person I’ve always been,
with the same weaknesses
— and strengths;
the same likes
and dislikes;
the same needs
and desires
and dreams;
facing the same troubles
I’ve faced before

only now there are more of them.

It’s even harder
somedays
when people call me
an angel;
they say
that I am wonderful,
admirable;
loving,
courageous,
strong,
and responsible.

They have no idea
of the daily effort,
nor of the way
their well-intentioned ignorance,
and boundless praise
weigh me down:
reminders
of how I ought to be;
making me feel inadequate,
lost,
and small.

There are times —
hours and even days,
sometimes —
when I'm none of those things.
I haven’t become a saint;
and I don’t want
to be a martyr;
but I’d be lying
if I said I wasn’t tired —
to the core of my being.

My muscles ache,
my nerves are on edge,
my thoughts are scattered,
I haven't the strength to cry —
although there are times
I want to scream;
I’m so tired of pretending
that everything is under control.

I am exhausted;
bereft of courage,
unsteady of faith,
unsure of belief;
unable to fake
another cheerful smile;
uncertain
if I can make it through
one more day.

I am like smoke from a fire:
the best of me has burned up;
the slightest breeze
could set me spinning
and I'd disappear
into thin air.

O my God,
I need to hear You
beneath the hum of fear;
I need to feel You
deep within my bones;
I need Your strength
to see me through.

O loving Friend,
speak Your sustaining Word to me.

Amen.