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But I sense what I am feeling and experiencing is echoed in others’ lives.
There is purpose in sharing.

Just as I am learning the art and craft of poetry and writing in the doing of it, 
I am also learning the art of the Christian life 
in the practise of it.

The stop – start of surrender versus self-will,
 faith versus fear, 
grace versus greed, 
attending to You versus attending to anxiety.
Boldness versus quaking.
Strength instead of weakness.

Yesterday, I wrote about faith.
Attempted to define the Indefinable.
To express the Inexpressible.

Today, I wonder why faith so often feels like
 being stretched on a torture rack 
instead of a gentle limbering and warming of muscles before a race.

To be honest, I am really struggling with holding on.
This walk of faith is no picnic, no walk in the park.
Not for the faint-hearted.
Everything in me hurts.
I ache for Ordinary.
My normal is like a bad dream.

So many of us live lives of quiet desperation,
 frustration, discouragement and despair.
Surviving today feels like a marathon.
Tomorrow is another day to dread or endure.

That finishing line may find me thus:
limping, wounded, gasping, 
battle-scarred, crawling in the dirt,
barely able to reach the end –
Seeking Your hand to grasp.

We long to see change.
We long for a sign, a touch, a word.
We long to see You act in ways we cannot miss

But…You already have.

Thank you, Father, 
for Light in our darkness,
Hope in our gloom,
Peace in our pain,
Strength in our weakness, 
Beauty for ashes,
Joy instead of mourning,
Praise instead of despair.
For those of us who struggle to see these things,
who have lost hope,
who need restoration
of faith, of circumstances, 
and a fresh perspective;
please bring a revelation
of Your grace 
and a deeper sense
of Your Presence
to sustain us.
Amen.