Heavenly Father,

Is this design or dysfunction?
I feel tired through my core,
And do we go it alone?
It comes with no compunction,
Knock-knocking at my door:
This beast that chewed my child-sized bones.

But the memories, stale
With scratching fingers,
Cannot change who You are
I fight exhaustion, often fail,
But You ever linger
Both near and far.

I don’t trust where I began,
And I can’t know where I may end,
But You are the Ancient of Days.
No one plucks me from Your hand
When You have called me friend,
And whispered Your higher ways,

To lead me through this maze.

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