Stretched Thin

 

For when you feel stretched too thin by Kate Bowler

I am stretched so thin that every task looms large.

At first, I thought I was still falling but no, I’ve hit bottom.
I have no more to give, yet so much more to do.

My resolve has dwindled and my hope is chased away
by every anxious thought: Will this ever let up? Will I ever get a break? Will there ever be enough?

Oh God, show me again how this works— how you bring dry bones to life.

God, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Spirit, have mercy.

Blessed are we, the weary and weak and sore, with only the merest ember left burning but who still whisper, with all the voice we can muster:

Breathe on me, oh God, breathe life into my tired body, my heavy limbs,
bring light to the dark corners of my mind, breathe comfort into my sad heart.

Enkindle my awareness of who I was made to be and of what is mine to do.

Blessed are we who turn our gaze to seek the One whose eyes meet ours, the One who knows us, the One whose nail-pierced hands formed ours.
Like newborns whose bleary sight focuses to find adoring eyes beaming down, delighting and filling, mirroring and multiplying.

Blessed are we who discover we are loved and held in Holy arms that are strong enough to hold that which we cannot.