Still abiding in His wings, though I do rather chafe as this current circumstance in my writing goes on. I find myself wrestling for every word and fighting the shadow that saves me. Not to mention weary of posting here on depression. 😏 Some for myself, but also, yes, because the old fear of wearying someone else too much for them to stick around lurks within me yet. But, then, there are the other depressed souls that might just need to recognize themselves here. At any rate, He called me to honesty, so better that I remain in it…
Here I run to His river again,
In my hand my trusty pen.
And I turn my gaze to watery
Seeking in my reflection therein
Some sort of summation,
Something that feels of worth,
Stirs of my spiritual rebirth.
Yet…full expression remains a
Struggle, my friends.
I keep scribbling thoughts and
Striving as I know I ought
Only to sweep them to the trash bin.
For I don’t want to just make this
A mere means to a hollow end…
So…I keep trying to stretch these
Of my literary prowess
But in the midst of the world’s mad
I find thoughts dissipate and myself
Bowing to the infinite less.
I know that I know that I know
God is yet on His throne.
And I come there and cry out for Him
What He has for me alone…
“God,” I whine, “I thought I was
I thought ‘on we go’,
And the words would flow
And I would be done with
This present lack!”
These rubbery limbs of mine
Are only fumbling to now and again
Have the former knack.
So…do I just fling the pen aside?
I have thought of it, I confide.
For the last thing I want to become
Is just a sorry case of a writer’s sore
Yet…I know the Lord’s tender,
Cautions me to
Just. Lie. Still.
And further reminds me there is yet
Another, better choice,
A more lasting way to fulfill….
To let go and let Him take the words’
Often unwieldy reins.
For, honestly, it is nothing less than
To wrestle the heavenly shadow
Meant only to heal and to sustain…
Blessings and prayers, dear friends! Struggling or not so much, may you find comfort in His shadow. ❤