Walking With the Word

Wake me up before I die,
Before sorrow consumes me.
Breathe on me O breath-of-life
While disquiet woes pursue me.

The muddy mire, it holds me fast;
I cannot move, though I might try.
Every strain feels like the last;
thick like treacle; breath like sigh.

There must be more, or so they say,
More than relentless struggle:
One at a time, to take each day:
To escape this breathless bubble.

There is more, I know in truth,
A purpose beyond survival.
But fulfilment proves illusive,
My heart requires revival. 

Wake me up before I die,
Before sorrow consumes me.
Breathe on me O breath-of-life
While disquiet woes pursue me.

“My soul thirsts for God, for the living God; … [I] hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him.”

Psalm 42

My Story…