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Sunday, September 28

Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul

It seems it is now a regular practice of mine to wake up in the middle of the night overwhelmed with the weight of this world. Grief, fear, loneliness, and a suffocating feeling of lostness... somehow they continue to manage overcoming me even through the walls of sleep. I am pulled from whatever rest I may have had and shown all my weaknesses, all of my insecurities, every doubt... any trembling piece of hopelessness that has seeped into me throughout the years.
And I am left more frail than I thought possible.

Every night I am brought to this thin and breakable state.


Every night something is there to bring me back. A song plays, a memory drifts back, words from hymns and choir songs, something a friend said... Like the first beam from a search and rescue party shooting through the darkness it sparks hope. Focus on that one little spark and it slowly but surely becomes a flame that licks at the loneliness, consuming it and sending it wherever things go when they are defeated.

I will cling to that hope with all that is in me until finally I am pulled back under the sweet escape of sleep. I will still cling to that hope in the morning. I will hold on for dear life all day and into the next night. The hope that You give, the knowledge that You not only know where I'm going next but You have planned every step that is to follow... This hope will not put me to shame.

I may be back here tomorrow, but I won't be left to bear my frailty in solitude.

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.~Psalm 62:5 & 6

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