i write to believe.

I am worn out God. My humanity is worn out. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And today I humbly admit that before you. I am worn out. I am worn out by the physical and emotional demands of ministry. Worn out by the demands of my work. I am worn out. Have I admitted that to myself enough? Do people around me know that the past 10 years of being so involved with care-giving has worn me out? Yet despite this weariness I hunger desperately for the in-filling I know that only You can give. Only in this weariness can I recognise my own neediness for such an in-filling that no one else can supply but You. No person. No accomplishment. No companionship. Nothing is enough when the weariness of man cracks the bone. Nothing but You Beloved. Oh how I've seen You laced around fingers of their raised hands. In the dark room where prayer rose from the depths of broken hearts. I saw You God. I saw You wrestle with their woes & struggle to get them still ...

The days have been long since I've gotten myself to post here again.  So many things have happened the past month and most of my cluttered thoughts have been chronicled in fragments  for only fragments can be mustered right now.   It's 44 minutes past midnight and I'm tuning into a place of silence I haven't had in a while.  It's 2 days since the eleventh encounter weekend with the youth ministry.  It's been 26 days since my dear spiritual mentor Tita Belle has passed away.  It's been 95 days since I decided to take on a different route with my work. So many moments have passed and there is only one thought in my head right now.  I want to live my life with a meaningful rhythm void of haste and solely relying on the flow of God's grace. I have been in many conversations the past few months.  Things to achieve.  Things to complete.  Things to pursue.  Things to fix.  People to listen to.  People to mend. ...