Lord I am weak and I am weary.
I am lost in a valley so low—
Surrounded on all sides
By molehills the size
Of Everest—and I can’t seem to find
my mustard seed.
I am Yours and I am lost,
Too nervous to stay in one place
until you find me.
I close my eyes, trying—
As always—to fight back
The tears, and the lurking fear of
Impending doom.
Suddenly your arms are around me,
Cradling me, You rejoice at finding
Your lost one, for she finally understands
You are never out of reach.
Gheeta Smith