Dear Lord, I'm feeling so battered and poor. It's my own fault. I haven't felt like studying, haven't felt like praying, haven't felt like excersizing. I work and there is little satisfaction. The bills loom. I wish I could escape this poverty trap. I think to myself I could start offering web services but I don't know how to market myself and I don't know how to transition from full time unrelated employment to something that might fit better but require more time than I have left over. My mess, I suppose, is a good thing, Lord. Because it is clear that I need your help. I can't do this without you. You would think, however, that I would pray more at a time like this. But I've been slacking. I'm tired. I broke my fast today. I've been feeling lately like I just can't squeeze any more good deeds, any more love out of my body, any more information into my head. I just have to slow down and rest. Catch my breath. But it seems like such a waste of time. And now I feel guilty for it.

And I do stupid things. I overspent on Christmas gifts. Lord, this is a very difficult time. I'm so far from ready. I'm gaining weight and I don't know how I'm going to pay my bills. Our credit cards are already maxed out and there's nothing in the account for the rent. But I'm not complaining. I'm just looking at this sleeping Jesus in the storm-tossed boat and saying, 'okay, Lord. Whenever you're ready.' I won't worry. I know you have this handled. Maybe that's why you've allowed me to feel so burnt out, doing unproductive things. Maybe I've just been sleeping right along with you in the boat. It feels that way. So I'm not going to apologize. We both already know I'm a sinner. This isn't about me. It's about your promises of salvation. I do repent of my sin. But I'm not going to apologize for relying on you to carry me when I just don't have strength to be superman anymore. What I really want to say is 'thank you.' Lord, you know what needs to be worked out. I won't enumerate. I just lift your name on high and bless you with praises.