The longer I wait, the more peace He gives.

My circumstances haven’t changed, but this week hasn’t felt so heavy. And for that— I’m thankful.

The flames are still present, but faith does not burn. It refines.

I wrote this poem on a day I realized I could no longer bear the weight myself. I’m sharing it now, during a moment of peace, knowing I never had to.

Weighted to Wait

At first, I carried it in my hands,
then my shoulders joined the fight.
Now the weight rests on my chest,
and I search for strength each night.

Down on my knees in prayer,
begging for strength to get through.
Drowning in guilt at how heavy it feels—
even while trusting in You.

Having faith is my reality.
Yet this ache is just as real.
Are You displeased with my sadness?
Am I not allowed to feel?

Tell me, are You disappointed—
in every tear that I cry?
I wonder if I’m strong enough,
but I never question why.

For I recognize Your greatness
within every breath I take.
This battle is preparation—
My suffering, no mistake.

Satan’s working overtime,
trying to weigh me down with shame.
But my tears are being collected,
so still, I’ll exalt Your name.

I’ll wield the sword of the Spirit
to endure this pressing weight.
I hand this battle over to You.
As I sit, be still, and wait.

“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, To the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should hope and wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” – Lamentations 3:25-26