Pressing On

What is it about feeling tired, getting run down, that makes your defenses and self-control come crumbling down as well?  All this time I've been slowly getting tired, slowly getting more and more stretched, and as I faithfully put one foot in front of the other, each step a little softer than the last, I find my heartstrings being pulled by old, shut-out fingers.  Tinges of longing hum ever quietly, stirred by glimpses of formerly closed doors as I walk along.  

I know they're shut.  I know what lies behind them isn't what I want, really.  It wouldn't be good, it wouldn't be right, it wouldn't be best-- I've been over this...  But my slow, easy tired takeover leaves me longing for a rest in SOME room...  Even if it's not the one I want.

But He's so good to me.  And so I take a deep breath and press on, planting my feet with all the firmness I can muster, doing my best to lock my gaze on the road ahead.  He'll give me my rest when I need it, and these doors, these rooms, these sealed lands and journeys are closed for a reason.

Please help me press on.