When all your songs are dried up, when your melodies are lost, when the tune that used to lift your spirits does not do so anymore,
When you ache to be done but robotically continue, when you need a vacation but the calendar does not agree, when your shoe soles are all worn thin,
When the quiet thick of 4 am waking feels scary and big, when the morning coffee ceases to be a savior, when the promise of a new day does not seem like a promise,
When you are burnt-out, dried-up, all-used,
this is the place,
the place of the whisper,
the place of the broken,
the place He meets you.
When you realize the things that scaffolded you up are broken and creaky, when you stop chasing the glitter and see that it is dust, when all the other gifts are not enough,
He gives Himself.