What a dearth I have fallen into. Exhaustion has robbed me of so much life. I hate working like this: Always too little rest, always leaning on that desperate energy that’s just one step from hysteria, watching my companions and coworkers, looking into their eyes and seeing there a madness borne of no sleep and the droning insanity of ceaseless machinery. Thank God the pay is so good, but God help me to stick it, to survive; help us all.
God, today is also the day, when we let go and say ‘Your will,’ again, and all my weeping and prayers end in that acceptance. Today is the last step of what we can do, and tomorrow I will pray and weep again. Again and again, Your answer, Your comfort, comes; please, let this trial end. Deliver us, my God.
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, and I cannot take the day off work. The work day is so long, there is no service I can make. God, please help me through this Lent, for I cannot handle one more thing. I cannot even handle the things I am handling now. Oh, but Lent, to cease doing, to give up this or that… is there a rest in fasting I have not known before?
Is there rest for me? Is there home? A Sabbath?
Your will, O God. Your will. Not my will. Your will.
Tale Told 