My Cup, At Times, Is Not So Full

 I don't have it all together Lord..

I need your help every day.

When I think my strength, is all I need..

I find the dryness of my seed.


Often I would dream of things..

I say that it is well.

The thoughts that rage inside my head..

Belong to someone else instead.


Yet the days of dread and fear..

Beckons slowly, as I kiss each tear.

My insides churn and my heart ache..

For particles of bread and cake.


I look up and I declare..

That you, Oh God, might heal each care.

By faith I hope, to run this race..

Justly striving slowly,


with your grace.


My cup, at times, is not so full..

Quickened partly, as I struggle through the process of finding my way.

From the moment I wake up, to the time I rest my head...

On a bed of old linen, adorned with wrinkled care..

My tapered longing, becomes so true..

For doubt and despair, escapes my due.



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