"I am weary with my crying;
my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim with waiting for God."
Psalm 69:3
I cannot fathom
that You do not grow weary
ever
It seems a familiar place for me--
one in which I am finding myself again
This sense of
soul depletion
deep weariness of spirit
I don't like it
Such a frustrating way to walk through my days
and compounded by the voices telling me of
another need
and another
wears on my tired frame even more
God
can you silence the voices I war with
lift the heart- heavy burdens
and still me
Just
still
my
soul
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