With little fanfare and even less introduction, I follow Kate and dwell on: weary.
I wrote these words long ago. Scribbled across the margin of a Bible study workbook. Among the first studies I ever did. Among the first poems I ever penned as an adult. They rise up from within my heart today. I am tired. I forgot to take my new medication last night, the one that helps my stomach to not hate me, and so I’m nauseous. I can’t decide whether to keep my bangs or grow them out so they’re in that really awkward phase that all women know about. Churchill’s black dog keeps trying to entice me to come and play. I am drawn. Beaten. Weary.
“Edge of Defeat”
Sometimes I feel like a
I have no fight left
The weight of my load
is too great to bear
But the fear of giving it up
is greater still
For who would I be?
What would I miss out on?
Is letting go where
true freedom lies?
I should rather be master
of my own life!
But in my weakness
I know I’m not
For this sin, this cloud
has beaten me into dust
Has sapped my strength
consumed my mind
Yet for all the pain
This is my bosom friend
whom I loathe to love
I want to hide – O, God!
Please turn away!
Don’t look at me –
let me have my secret shame
I beg of You – just let me go!
For this cannot be worth Your time
If I really loved You
I’d have beaten this by now
Kicked the habit to the curb
KO’ed my shadowy opponent
Emerged victorious from the battle
Isn’t that the truth?
Alone in the corner of the ring
Head lowed, knuckles bruised and bloodied
I accept my loss, bow to my enemy
He moves to overtake me
Wicked grin spread cross his face
Eyes that gleam with hatred
Tears fall down my battered cheeks
How could I fail again?
Suddenly, that thing, that fright
that cursed enemy of souls
Flung away, vanished!
Conquered by an unseen hand.
Clear, cool water pours over me
cleaning my wounds, restoring
Still my head hangs low
For I sure know Who is standing there
Blinding light takes place of dark
I cower even farther – try to shrink in size
I know You saw! You know I blew it!
Where can I run to now?
You gently tip my chin up
I cannot meet Your eyes
I know You must be disappointed
I’ve fallen, yet again
You step away with whispered word
Dry the tears from off my face
“Fight!” You say,
and smile on me
“For I know one day you’ll
Because of this – and this alone
Your tiny faith in me.”
“It may not seem as if it’s true
But have I ever lied?
So fight, my daughter,
I’ll bandage your wounds.
I will restore, prepare, make new
You have no secret shame
Nothing of you is hidden from me
And you can never fall too far.”
“You do not fight this war alone
Though sometimes you try!
Lean again, trust again,
And with wings spread you’ll soar.”
How can this Man love me so?
How can He save me once again?
One look in His eyes, all questions gone
I’ve all I need to know
The fight bell rings,
I rise – steadied, sure
One two punch, I’m in God’s hands
And I’ll be whole again.
8 thoughts on “Five Minute Friday: Weary”
I’m weary too friend. Thank You for your words…what a beautiful poem! Love you friend!
I’m sorry that you’re in a valley. May God encourage you in a special, unique way today!
Beautiful but sad poem until the end. I loved it. 🙂
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Oh friend, how I can relate to tummy issues. That alone contributes a lot to my weariness – as I experience it, too. Love your poem! I’ve always desired to write poetry but alas…it’s just not my gift.
Love you, my sweet Blacklist friend.
Lynette (#76 this week)
P.S. Your bangs are mah-velous!!!!
Oh, man. You have my total and complete sympathy. Stomach stuff is the WORST. I can deal with any other problem far better than I can deal with that. Love you, too!
I like your gloves.
No, I’m not a boxer. Not even attracted to it. But I do remember when I was a little kid visiting my Grandpa, he’d watch boxing on his B&W TV while smoking his pipe. I don’t remember the matches, but I associate them with Grandpa. It was all warm and comfortable.
I do relate to weightlifting and strength training (as opposed to bodybuilding), though. At 61, I’m a little old to go full “beast mode,” especially since I’m coming to this type of workout late in the game. I am used to walking out of the gym dripping sweat and pretty darn sore.
A couple of weeks ago, I “tweaked” my lower right lumbar area pulling a 250 pound barbell off the floor (my PR to date) doing deadlifts. Now I’m paying for it, trying to find ways to keep myself in the gym while letting my back heal.
A tired body plus transportation problems (car needs a new engine) kept me from working out for four days. This morning I went back with my remediation plan sorted. Have to lift lighter but more sets and reps (and no deadlifts for a while). After getting knocked down, the road back to getting up can be slow and hard. But the road is there. All we have to do is start walking.
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Oh the bangs debate! That in and of itself can make one weary!