Like water on the sand or grasping at the wind
I keep falling short, so please be my strength
Please be my strength ‘cause I don’t have anymore
I don’t have anymore
Please Be My Strength, Gungor
My eyes opened to see the ghostly light dancing on the ceiling of my living room.
I had fallen asleep hours earlier, waking up occasionally to the sound of the thunderstorm outside my window.
At this hour, the storm had passed, leaving only the moonlight to greet my interrupted slumber.
In the deep darkness of that shadowed room, I fought to focus on the small whispers of light sashaying above me.
My eyes struggled to hold them.
My heart was too heavy to bear my consciousness any longer, and I wept. I prayed for the darkness to swallow my sadness, to suffocate it. I prayed for sleep—to run from the searing pain I was feeling.
Mercy came like a soft blanket, and I slept.
My life has changed, and throughout all the hours of my days, I am struggling to know if it is for better or worse.
