I am so weary of being strong, capable, and resilient.
Right now, I am breathing through hot water, and I can’t do it much longer.
The Universe Never Wants Me Distracted
I am busy with life, but I voted. I get [expletive] done, but Lord, I am tired.
I grew up the daughter, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter of Baptist preachers. There was never a time in my life without Faith. Faith was discipline, a routine I practiced religiously.
Religion is a habit, like brushing your teeth, and that, as a foundation, is not a bad thing.
I was also raised a very good girl, which means I’ve always understood what to say (or not) and when. My facades are flawless and numerous, and this too is not entirely a bad thing; I am merely
exposing different facets of my personality based upon my surroundings.
I expose myself in practical fractions. It’s what we do. We are work professionals. We are mommies. We are corporate wives. We are neighbors. It’s not a bad thing, and our society is so naturally fractured that it’s probably something people expect.
I became so proficient at adapting that I stopped thinking about it at all. I wasn’t being dishonest per se, rather I was being politic. And then, storms came.
When Storms Come
That, dear one, was the origin of my three-word prayers.
Three-word prayers are my ultimate confession. Three-word prayers are the moment I concede that God knows my heart, so I can get right to the heart of the matter (since He was the Heart of the Matter).
If God was truly Omnipotent, I was only wasting my own time.
I’m in Need of a Three Word Prayer
They concede that I have taken off the mask I reserve for God, and confess that I’m still helpless, still hopeless, still not just broken but ground into dust AND unable to draw breath except By Divine Grace and Mercy.
So, Here’s it Goes
I keep failing at the line between hubris and faith.
All the prayers I can offer right now are cuss words, and I’m tired.
Fortunately, I’ve learned that God can handle it, even if no one else can.