I don’t want to open doors to memories locked up, dusted with faded dreams and hopes that hurt.
I don’t want to unlatch the gate that keeps my pain at bay, don’t want to feel it charge with fury at the most tender parts of my heart.
I don’t want to loosen anymore tears from my eyes; they’ve rained enough and flooded fields of joy that once grew abundant, yet now are barren and broken.
I don’t want to fight to feel, push against the nothingness inside and battle with my being for the right to realize any emotion begging for my attention.
I don’t want to try again and fail, to fall into a pattern of defeat that spits me out and leaves me doubting my abilities, my gifts, my worth.
I don’t want to risk redemption only to be tempted and stray from the shelter of my solace. I have stumbled too often and sized up one width too small.
I do not want to waste this life.
So build me up, Great Carpenter of Your craft. Find the tears and holes in me and patch them up. Plant my foundation on solid ground, guard my heart and guide my mind. For You are my shield against the enemy’s schemes and by Your power I can persevere.
Take my hand, my Help and Hope. Take care not to crush such fragile fingers that fold delicately into Yours. I am walking towards untended territory, and I need Your strength to see me through.