Lord,
I am so empty.
I have nothing to pull from,
nothing to give You.
I am sorry.
I had hoped for more.
God of grace
and the filler of all these
spilled-out spaces,
breathe a river in me,
even a trickle would be good.
You do not hold
anything back;
and I cannot hold
anything in.
Meet me
where the mud of
this river dries,
and forgive me
where I have done
the drying myself.
You know how I ache,
how I still hope,
even now.
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dear sarah
i follow you and the beauty with which you transform the sadness speaks to my heart. you are a gifted writer, poet.
please endure and share your groping.
with Jesus everything will turn out fine and those who mourn will laugh. and the seed that is sown will grow. times of aridity can be times of prayer, reading the psalms or so.
i love you very much
tina