I want to be successful.
I am feeble.
I want to be strong.
I ache and hurt.
I want to be wise.
I am addled.
I want to have enough to give generously.
I am living off of the generosity of others.
What I have is gone.
What I want is not to be.
I crawl, like a bleeding, destitute woman to I Am and reach out
to touch the hem of the robe of Him.
He stands. He is clean, strong, creator, Abba, comforter.
I reach, ashamed, weak, crying, afraid.
He knows. Sees. Lifts my head. Gives me Hope.
More than I can imagine.
More of You, Lord.
I need more of You.
"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies."--2 Corinthians 4: 8-10