My Encourager

My insides turn from liquid to stone.
Patting, heaving, can’t carry this load.
The others abandoning me I try to condone.
I’m too slow, and this is one long road.

Passers-by perceive me alone,
As a girl on a bike in the 4:00 daylight.
But as the sun dips the sky into chrome,
There’s someone nearby helping me fight.

My encourager gifts me with strength not my own.
And when I’m scared and cry out for Him,
He always answers my prayer’s phone.
He fills me up with love to my very brim.

Over the steep torturous hills,
My lips mutter His name on repeat.
He is good, as well as his wills.
In Heaven, He and I will once more meet.

All this pain doesn’t seem so horrible.
If I’m suffering for Him, like He suffered for me…
These hills don’t seem nearly as deplorable.
And down the slope, into His hands, I am free.