Lord Can It Be Now

Lord, can it be now? I stand before You weary, my spirit weathered and my flesh frail. Can You anoint me while strength yet lingers in my bones? Bless me in this season of vigour, that I may partake of the harvest my hands have sown — to taste the sweet fruit of endurance. I am fatigued beyond utterance. Tired of weariness itself. Tired of waiting in the antechamber of hope. Tired of tears that carve silent rivers down my face. Tired of rehearsing my exhaustion to myself, as though repetition could dull its edge. I am tired of importuning others, of becoming a burden in their presence. Tired of derision, of laughter wielded as a weapon against my dignity. Tired of pain that has taken residence in my marrow. Tired of the unrelenting yoke of stress and the shadow of despondency. Tired of seeking aid and finding echoes. Even my thoughts are spent. My mind, once a sanctuary, has become a battlefield. My entire being — body, soul, and spirit — is exhausted and can bear no more. So I ask You now, Lord: Can You do it now? You declared that those who seek shall find; that to those who knock, the door shall be opened; that those who ask shall receive. You asked, what father, when his son requests bread,