First of the Worst 2

I stand on feeble knees and wobbly legs. I try to run away and drop this weight off my back. I hear the same people tell me the same things. I may not be superman but I am as close it gets. The devil comes knocking with kryptonite in hand and I turn the handle of the door, but You remind You are Lord.

I tried to find comfort in the person I thought could give it, but once again I am alone at my weakest. I walk with the world on my shoulders all day long. More people throw their weight on these broad shoulders, but I am starting to think I am running out of room. I may not be superman, but you like to treat me like I am The enemy wants me to trap me in the mire, so I will give up.

I have been sinking for so long, but just like Peter it is because of my little faith. The hurt and the pain are real, and I know I can’t run from the storm. So, I am just running to the tower no storm can crumble. Run to the secret place no man or emotion or pain or disease will have dominion in the presence of the Lord. Run to the secret place.