In the Valley of the Shadow of Death

O Lord God, please help me as I
Lie curled fetal at Your feet, with my ear
And cheek reclined upon Thee,
And the imagined touch of Your
Divinity my prayer to You so meek.
I am tired and worn, Lord,
In unremitting warfare spiritual.
My faith wilts and falters.
Depression threatens to wall
Me in brick-by-brick. Where is
Your yoke easy to assume upon my
Shoulders? Your burden light?
When is my heart to leap
When it hears Your glad tidings?
Each day brings an arid trek.
Lord, is this my desert? Is this my
Forty days and forty nights?
Is this my duty to forgive
Seventy-seven times? Is this
My basket of five loaves and two fish,
To somehow be multiplied?
Is this my loneliness when the
Wind howls at my mind’s door?
Is this my terror as the lion
Prowls at my heart to devour?
Is this my despair with
No one to know, to hear?
I am before You, Lord, and my
Candle against the cold night flickers
And threatens to be snuffed.
Where is fresh oil for my
Lamp? Is my life’s search to
Culminate in not knowing You fully
As I should, to always be
Wandering in rags with a staff,
My eyes barely open, dazzled by
Sand grains’ extending
Without limits near and far,
And my every footstep afraid of
Stepping on a snake, such
Is the cauldron of my worries,
Fears, anxieties, and brew of viper’s
Doubts? I am in danger of never
Realizing and living Your Truth — that
When I seek, I shall find, that
When I knock, the door will be
Opened to me, and that when I ask,
Will be gladly given me. O
Lord, please be my companion
This evening and provide a
New lamp filled with Your oil
Of olive, to anoint my head and to
Re-ignite my lowly night fire.
I know You reign in invisible silence,
My Lord, but tonight I need to
See Your Light, and to smell the
Sweet scent of Your balsam-breath
As it wafts like heavenly incense
Around my soul’s pyre.