Better Than I

-a poem-

I know so many people better than me

Women who have gone through surgery after surgery

Women who can’t breathe

Women who can’t stand

And yet they laugh

And yet they dance

They speak of their struggles with an outlook fixed ahead

Dwelling not on the negative but the positive instead

They speak of their Savior and how they’re blessed

Even as they walk truths so hard to digest

Their body fails them but their spirit is strong

Leaving me to wonder if that’s what I’m doing wrong

Because my soul is tired

I’m worn out and weary

I keep losing to temptation and becoming so dreary

Am I giving my flesh more power than my savior?

Am I intentionally tilting the scale so it lands in my will’s favor?

Is my strength becoming my weakness as I refuse to relinquish control?

Do I need to be broken in order to be made whole?