Sorry, Lord,
I come to You again
with a heavy chest
and a smile that keeps pretending to be okay.
I told the world
that I was fine,
but before You,
I finally break open.
Three people already
heard the cracks in my voice,
heard the jealousy
quietly growing inside me
like moss on a damp wall.
I’m sorry.
I know
I should not compare my journey.
They are soaring far ahead,
while I am still here
trying to calm my own heart.
I know
everyone has their own road,
their own timing,
their own destiny
written carefully by Your hands.
But still, Lord,
there is a pain I cannot explain
when I watch others
arrive sooner
at the dreams they prayed for.
And I—
I am still standing here,
asking for direction,
collecting the little pieces of faith
falling from my tired hands.
Forgive me for being jealous.
Forgive me for this fragile heart.
Forgive me for not fully accepting
the slowness of my own life.
If You allow it, Lord,
please hold my mind tonight.
Quiet the noise in my head,
ease the ache inside my chest.
Give me light
when everything feels dark.
Give me strength
to believe
that being late does not mean being lost.
And if my path is truly different,
teach me
how to keep walking
without needing to become anyone else
but myself.
Because I am tired
of hating myself
just because I have not arrived yet.
