The world is full of broken people
and my fragile soul cannot bear the weight
of this shattered place,
although I so often try.
I shed the tears,
feel the ache,
ask the questions,
pray the prayers for help, for healing.
I attempt to hold the heaviness
of pain, wondering, anger, effects of sin. . .
But it’s too much.
I am not Atlas,
able to carry the earth on my shoulders.
I stumble, crumple,
need Simon of Cyrene to carry my cross.
“I can’t do this!” I scream to the sky.
And He leans near and replies,
“I never asked you to.
I know you can’t.
That’s not how I made you.
I made you
And I remember
He bore the weight of our sin
and holds the world–
this world of broken people–
in His nail-scarred hand
that also cradles
my fragile heart.
~Julie Hochstetler, Sept. 2021
“The world is full of broken people” is a writing prompt I’ve seen, and I was also inspired by the following poem.
…K, @capturing_thoughts_ on Instagram
Then, I remembered.
I can’t carry the pain of this broken world.
But. . .
P.S. Would you like me to read more poems in the future? I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. . .