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A Letter to the Man Who Is Tired
The kind of tired sleep does not fix. A letter from one man to another, written from the same dirt you are standing in. You are not alone, and you are not done.
Brother,
I know you’re tired. Not sleepy. Tired.
The kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix. The kind you carry into work and carry back home and set down next to the bed like a pair of boots.
Maybe your marriage is quieter than it used to be. Maybe the money is short again. Maybe you did the thing you swore you’d never do, again, and you’re done asking God for help because you’re ashamed to keep showing up empty-handed.
Brother, you are not alone. And you are not done.
I’m not writing this from a mountaintop. I’m writing it from the same dirt you’re standing in. I’ve been knocked down. I stayed down longer than I want to admit.
What got me up wasn’t a program. It was a prayer in the truck before work. Thirty seconds. Honest. That’s all.
You don’t need the right words. You don’t need to clean up first. You need to show up, tired, exactly as you are, and say so.
Start there. Tomorrow morning. Engine off. Before the day starts swinging.
I’ll be doing the same.
Borrow mine
If you don't have the words, borrow mine
Lord, it's me. I'm tired. Not the kind sleep fixes. You know which kind.
Your mercies are new every morning. I need today's.
I don't have anything to hand You. No streak to point at, no excuse worth saying out loud. I'm sorry for what I did. Keep me out of it today.
You said the sacrifice You want is a broken spirit. That's what I've got, so that's what I'm bringing. And Your Son already brought what I couldn't.
I'm not asking for the whole thing fixed today. Get me through this one. Change what You can get at in me while I'm too tired to argue. Let me be steady for the people in my house tonight.
Thirty seconds is what I've got. Here it is.
Amen.
Jake
Also for the man who is angry or starting over.
If this hit home, write me. I read every message.