empty of words, stumbling through prayer. .

Stumbling onto the page, again. . .

She sits and stares at the white-washed screen,

begging for your long-lost words to be seen.

Nothing.

Nothing glares back at her.

Nothing at all.

But her thoughts cannot seem to stall,

with the time it takes in between,

the lengthening scenes.

Days seem like years,

and her heart is battling those very same fears.

Dreams have been dreamed,

and thoughts have been thought.

Her heart's cry this very night, "what can you make of this?

Is there something I could have missed?"

It is a wound that is deep, and a scar companied with years.

It is a battle that has been fought with many, many tears.

It is a girl's heart that has been spent,

with just thoughts, at what this all has meant.

And the days seem like years,

and her heart is battling those very same fears.

You have chosen her to love the children, the people,

everyone beneath Your steeple. . .

Does her heart matter in the grand scheme of things?

Should she be a girl graced with one of those dainty, beautifully picked rings?

A lot of thinking these past few days, without accomplishing much, or so it seems.

I almost gave up to sleep tonight, rather than stopping here to record these inner ramblings of a trembling heart.

I almost gave up to sleep, rather stopping to breathe, to just breathe- to be with my Maker.

Because sleep is just so much easier, than acknowledging the battle that I have fought to rid myself of so long ago, as being a part of who I am, today.

It is a night when I don't know how to pray, but I am begging the Holy Spirit to intercede for me.

I just want to be where You are, in Your presence.