(By Rachel Joyce)
The pain slips like a sharp blade
Through the layers of my dreams
Stabbing me awake.
I wince and struggle
To turn over, my muscles rebelling,
Refusing to cooperate.
It’s always hard, waking up to the hurt,
But today, I need extra grace, Lord.
On my own, I cannot bear
The thought of another day
In which movement is
So limited, challenging, painful.
I am exhausted, Savior Mine,
From the effort it takes to live this life
You have given me; I cannot do it
On my own. I need You so.
Please be my strength, for mine
Is gone. I need Your grace.
Let me feel Your loving arms,
Holding me through the pain,
And Your voice, reassuring me
That this is not in vain,
But is working for me an eternal
Weight of glory, beyond compare.
I can hardly conceive how it can be
That You can bring glory from even this,
One day. But in this day
The suffering prevails and now
I rest in stillness in Your grace and I choose
To trust my Lord, the Lord of all my days.