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Why doesn't it stop? The endless spinning. Sometimes I can't keep from falling to the floor.
How can I ever escape this sickness? I'm never well enough to sing, and sometimes I'm just so weak.
I can't stop my driving. Strapped in the left side, slamming out 90 and its never fast enough.
Sometimes God, I don't know why you put me here, in a world where I'll never belong.
I feel so lost sometimes, looking out my window and shivering as the destruction brushes past my soul.
They say I'm strong and yet I feel so fragile. Like a feather, free falling in the wind.
All I can do is hold on to you, there's nothing in this world for me except what you love.
posted by megan 3:48 PM

We're only one breath short of Heaven; that healing grace soothes us to sing.
How many times have you taught weary feet to dance in an outpouring of praise!
Broken pottery is your unfinished art, no life falls beyond your loving grasp.
I'll sing beneath the shadow of your wings while you carry me closer to Heaven.
posted by megan 11:37 PM

Somewhere between coping and survival I heard my fragile soul cry out.
Sometimes God, I don't know how to take this, I just stand still and spin.
Your right hand embraces me, but without it my bones would give way.
I'd fall down and cry until my love found me and picked me up again.
There's a hushed downpour of sorrow from every heart thats seen so much.
God we can't stand any more, please let us fall into your arms for awhile;
like slipping into smooth water, our weary bodies will find relief.

In case anyone is worried, its not my marriage, its the grief that my husband and I have endured together for 2 months along with crises that we couldn't carry without the strength of grace.
posted by megan 1:20 PM

The candlelight just kept pouring but before my shaken eyes it was lost.
It just kept slipping through my teardrops as I fell to the floor.
I open my mouth and thirsty lungs won't let me close it.
I've forgotten how to breathe.
I lift my face up Heavenward and through prayers I'm lost in ecstasy,
as my mind paints me in allegory;
remembering the night we stood in the thunderstorm waiting for the lightening.
My face is drenched with teardrops heavy as the rain that streamed down,
but I'll wait on my Abba to bring the lightening.
His grace always comes.
posted by megan 8:21 PM

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