She fell upon her young knees;
her right hand grabbing the armrest of the sofa
as her tears dripped
onto the Siamese cat that had just had his royal rest disturbed.
ďI canít do this anymore Lord.
I canít stop smoking.
Iíve tried everything,
And nothing has worked.
I give up.
I need you to come through for me.
Please, help me.
Youíre all I have.Ē
A rush of peace filled her heart, and the desire left her.
The pastor sat at his monitor,
his lip quivering,
his entire body sullied
with more judgments that spouted from yet another e-mail.
ďIs this the end of the road for me?
Iíve tried everything I could
and I still canít get it right.
Where are the saved?
Where are the sacrificial members
who would lay down their lives for you?
God, I give up.
Thereís nothing left in this old man to give.Ē
In the quiet, a small voice whispered, and he finally received.
She lay alone in her bed -
hugging her pillow and
clenching her teeth to stop the wails from exploding
into the darkness,
as her husband clicked his way through
more provocative flesh.
ďFather, I am so empty
so worn out
Iíve tried everything:
read every book,
tried every method of communication.
How can I go on?
I can only give up.Ē
Wholeness blew in, and she began to pray in trust instead of desperation.
His whole body sagged in exhaustion,
his weakness evident to all.
Heavenís doors were closed,
and the Father turned his back
as Jesus died in his weakness...
so that we could live
and go on
in his strength.
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