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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.
“I can’t do this anymore Lord.
I can’t stop smoking.
I’ve tried everything,
And nothing has worked.
I give up.
I need you to come through for me.
Please, help me.
You’re all I have.”
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.
“Is this the end of the road for me?
I’ve tried everything I could
and I still can’t get it right.
Where are the saved?
Where are the sacrificial members
who would lay down their lives for you?
God, I give up.
There’s nothing left in this old man to give.”
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.
“Father, I am so empty
so worn out
and abandoned.
I’ve tried everything:
read every book,
tried every method of communication.
How can I go on?
I can only give up.”
Wholeness blew in, and she began to pray in trust instead of desperation.
His whole body sagged in exhaustion,
his weakness evident to all.
Heaven’s doors were closed,
and the Father turned his back
as Jesus died in his weakness...
so that we could live
and go on
each day
in his strength.
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