I cling to a thread of hope. My hands tire.
I strain to see the light. My vision blurs.
I call for help. My throat is parched.
I fight for my life. I grow weak.
My body aches.
My soul aches.
I am exhausted.
"Surely, O God, You have worn me out."
"I am worn out from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. My eyes grow weak with sorrow; they fail because of all my foes."
When we are weak, He is strong.