I’m tired. Not the type of tired that can be remedied by sleep, though I’m sure a few more zzz’s couldn’t hurt, but I am weary of grieving.
I write this tonight with swollen, puffy, red eyes that reflect a constant depth of sorrow that continues to grip my daily life. Of course there are times of reprieve, but this intense, pervasive grief has left me tired of writing, tired of reading, tired of coping, tired of crying, tired of hurting, tired of trying to make sense of this life, tired of living without my son.
Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am still in distress;
my eyes continue to grow weak with sorrow,
my soul and my body with grief.
My days are consumed by anguish
and my life by groaning;
my strength fails because of my affliction,
and my bones grow weak.
But I trust in You, O LORD;
I say, “You are my God.”
My times are in Your hands.
Let your face shine on me, Your servant;
save me in Your unfailing love.
Let me taste of Your great goodness,
which You have stored up for those who fear You,
which you bestow in the sight of men
on those who take refuge in You.