God, I could not have imagined
that this road could be
so long, so hard, so daunting.
Here I am, worn out—body and soul.
Blessed are we, the weary
who must set aside what we are carrying,
and begin to feel only the weight of our own being.
It is enough for now.
Let our shoulders sink from around our ears,
our breath grow longer and deeper,
taking a minute to notice the way our diaphragm rises and falls
without us telling it to.
Blessed are we who cannot go on… not like this,
but stand and look and ask:
Is there a better path?
Blessed are we, at the point of utter stillness,
that becomes an empty space for that voice to echo and build and resound
until it becomes a place to rest and receive and be made whole.
And how blessed are we who are astonished
to find that God’s strength begins at the very point
when ours runs out.