A pastor’s wife

who doesn’t pray

who doesn’t lift up her own head

I don’t pray for myself

But yet the people do

Do I deserve such prayers?

When my own spirit doesn’t utter a word?

I lay here

Trapped in my mind

Trapped with my thoughts

What things do I think on?

Not of you!

Not of healing!

The Whys.

“I’m an imposter”

“A FAKE. “

“A weak, fragile Christian.”

I recognize that voice.

That native tongues of lies.

It’s a lie.

It’s a lie.

You are with me.

You are proud.

You never leave me or forsake me.

YOUR strength in MY weakness.

“Let my BODY hold you up.

As you put one foot in front of the other.

And when you’re ready

You can come to me

And drink from my fountain

For I am the well that never runs dry.

I will satisfy every quenched part of your soul.

Drink from me.

Until your cup overflows.

I will sustain you.

I will crown you.

I will carry you.

Through the valleys.

Through the hills.

Through the dark places and the crags.

I delight over you

Even when you can’t see

I am here

You are enough.”