Suffocating on Myself

I have been suffocating on myself, breath tightly held, lungs barely breathing until I collapse from lack of oxygen — only then can your presence sink in. 

I have been running on empty, fighting for my life, heart racing, eyes glazing, body caving, exhausted in perpetual fight or flight — it's when I let go of control, 

no where else to go, that 

you rescue me

from myself. 

Spirit of the Lord, breathe your breath into me. 

Calm my raging heart, 

ease my worried mind. 

Help me to remember what's not mine and to be grateful that I wasn't made to shoulder it all. Help me to remember that every fall is a gift to call out to you, my breath, my life, my rest. 

Lord, teach me to dismantle the frantic walls I've hurriedly built — to let all crumble away, your presence the only thing to stay. 

Jesus, I don't know why you built me this way. I've always been a Martha to the extreme, disordered but good with results — sometimes it's hard not to fault myself for missing the merry Mary way, but I'm aching to stay still, to root myself at your feet, to unleash my battered body from its prison cell and with you to dwell in security, 

finally free.