Knowing that you love me, I doubt you still, even though you say "rest, for all will be well." Your dedication to me is real, so why do I act as if it were fake? I go about my Christian life treating it like some game. I let go of sin, only to grab back on. I am weak and I cannot survive long. Your presence is what I need, but I hide myself from thee and my pitiful self cannot compare to your radiant glory. I say I'm not alone yet I cry out "are you there?" I melt into a puddle of sorrows though I say I don't care. My heart is tender despite how I say I can handle pain, I watch as sand fills the bottom of the hour glass and I value every grain. My time is limited I say, so I lock myself in my room and pray, but how often I must **** my flesh to be only "spiritually okay." I don't boast about my wholeness because I am too broken to lie, yet I laugh and smile and say everything's alright.
I can rest now, for my heart have vented enough, though enduring life is difficult and sometimes living really *****. knowing that you love me, I am asking to be filled, but you say "Rest now my child, for all will be well."