God, it’s morning and I’m already tired.
This is the kind of tiredness that muffles promise in a day,
cluttering it with the messes of the past
and the unfilled hopes of the future.
Blessed are we who say,
God, I know that there is goodness and love and beauty somewhere.
It calls, but from beyond my reach.
God, help me.
Sit me down and give me faith like a weighted blanket.
Settle me until each breath, each sigh
can release into your hands
all that is beyond my ability to fix or change or even understand.
Blessed are we
when a new and peaceful path opens
to take the rest that we need
and do the small thing that is possible
with the little that we have