Waterfall

I am weary and burdened 

 and I want that rest you mentioned.

My burdens are trivial:

daily stuff, detail stuff,

motherhood and marriage,

women and worry.

Who I am and what I'm for;

when to pursue the dream 

and when to stop trying.

All too difficult.

Tiring.

I know that burdens come much heavier than mine:

dirt and drought and death,

fear and fighting,

bombs and bloodshed.

Add guilt to my burden

because life is difficult right here

And yet I have nothing to complain about.

I am blessed but broken.

I'm feeling small.

Inadequate and fearful.

Still I come.

I come because I know your grace

and you know my dissatisfaction.

You love me anyway.

I come because I'm thirsty 

and the water that you give brings life;

heals and restores

gives energy and hope.

I bring hurt and wounds

and you give me water

to drink and bathe and swim.

I can stand under the waterfall of peace

naked but somehow unashamed.

Washed and nourished.

You see me.

I can't hide from you,

and so I approach;

just as I am.

You are the God who sees.

You see it all.

You see my weariness and weakness,

ingratitude and pride -

and instead of anger 

you pour out never ending love.