When lies and truth become blurred

Shatter

Trembling shoulders quake under the wight of the world. Or at least if feels like it. These slender shoulders are made of steal. Or so I thought. But lately they're cracking,  groaning under the weight  they bear. They need reinforcements and adjustments here and there. Maybe everywhere. God won't you heal me? You know I don't posses the skill nor means to cover the brokenness and despair. I'll leave the  repairs up to you. Your the skilled architect not me. How did I become such a  badly broken vessel you may ask? Well sometimes the small are asked to be strong. Sometimes the weak are asked to carry the burden of many. Well maybe I wasn't asked to carry it. Perhaps I was merely asked to stand by someone's side caring for and loving them. Along the way I took them into my heart and placed them on my shoulders. It started with being a pillar of strength within my family. Done quietly and mostly unknown. To both them and myself. It was a lot of work being a fortified city, an iron pillar, and a bronze wall. I did a poor job. I cracked and collapsed to many times to count. I felt weak and helpless. I was convinced I'd been given the wrong job. A mistake had been made, I must have been given someone else's assignment. Could someone fix the wrong? Could whoever the job was meant for please stand up? But no one did. I sunk to the ground my face nearly to the floor. The soft ground became squishy mud when mingled with my tears. But like every time before God put a bit of strength back in my body. He straitened my knees, put a rod of strength in my back and laced my shoulders with  iron. At some point I became strong. I couldn't really stay strong for myself that's still a work in progress. But God brought others into my life. I took them into my heart and bore them on my shoulders. I found I could stay strong for them. I found I was stronger than I thought. Coldness cracked my skin heat flowed through my veins crackling just under the surface. A constant throb resided in my head. My lung function was reduced to a third. Vision was narrow and thought clouded. Something had gone wrong. For you see even the strong fall. You can grow stronger and stronger and bear more than your load. But one day it will catch up and you will crack, burst and shatter into a thousand blood stained pieces. Don't worry. It's inevitable but you'll get back up. Perhaps a little stronger than before. A little more wise.  A little kinder. Another crack that will be filled with shimmering gold. One day that gold may dim but don't worry it's gold never the less. Sometimes the small are asked to be strong, and the weak to bear a little more. Many thin shoulders hold the tales of many. Many skinny knees are lined with scars telling you of every time they hit the floor. In defeat, in despair, in surrender, in prayer. Many slender backs have bent under their loads. Many young souls have bourn the burdens of those older.