I have carried this as far
as my finite strength allows.
My hands are tired of pretending
they are sovereign.

I can’t.

I can’t bend this will into holiness,
or stitch light into this torn heart.
I have reached the edge
of myself.

You can.

You who spoke and oceans stood.
You who breathe life
into dust and defiance alike.
You whose mercy does not flinch
at my limits.

Please do.

Do what I cannot name.
Undo what I cannot fix.
Break what must be broken.
Raise what must be raised.

Be in me
what I fail to be for You.

I can’t.
You can.
Please do.