...I hold onto you with all my strength, Lord

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?

My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.

Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;
the Lord is your shade on your right hand.

The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.

The Lord will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore. (Psalm 121:1-8 ESV)

Oh Lord, I'm so weary. So tired, so longing to be well and to feel better. So much desiring to be able to the things with my family we like to do and they deserve to have me do with them. I'm up to take some medicine, and can't go back to bed yet. My tummy feel off and I hurt, but hesitate to take more pain meds as I was to be wise with my liver, and also I fool myself into thinking I'm feeling better than I do, but then they begin to wear off and I find that some basic kitchen clean up and pantry organizing is far more than I can physically do, right now, without taxing my body excessively.

I'm working diligently for my health, knowing full well I will be healed, and that until that fully manifests, I must be a good steward of my body. I'm very focused on being grateful and recognizing the good things, and yet it's so hard. Everyone is asleep and I was so exhausted that I rested and slept through pretty much everyone's bed time and didn't get to spend it with them. Although it takes rather a lot out of me, I still want to have that time. But by the time Jim is home, I'm toast. Old, dried out, toast.

I need a reprieve. I must find some relief. Please help me. I cannot even clean a bathroom, and I'm the last person here who did.

Thank you for being there and carrying me through. I cannot fathom how anyone could go through this without you.

Please bless my sleep mightily tonight. I love you.