A Prayer From the Deep

Dear God,

I'm going to be honest with you: I'm exhausted. Completely and utterly drained. I've got nothing left to give. You already know this, but I’m so stretched thin I feel like I might snap at any moment.

I'm overwhelmed by a life ruled by routine. My days blur together, a relentless current of study, class, and work; each hour rolling into the next like unceasing waves, a storm of obligations that never rests. I'm overcome by insecurities—do my friends REALLY love me or is it all just a polite show? I’m overburdened with guilt; I barely have enough time to care for myself, much less show up for others. The guilty whispers creep in despite my best defenses. But most of all, I’m just tired. So tired. Always tired.

My overthinking mind has become the center stage for a never-ending war against myself. Howling gales of insecurity, wave after wave of fear, and worst of all, the unceasingly torrential downpour of exhaustion. I feel as if I am a mere sailor caught in the grips of a gargantuan storm, trying her best to steady her ship but constantly driven back by her own inner self.

The waters rise higher each day; I can hardly keep my head above them. Around me, maelstroms rage—swells of sorrow, pain, and loss batter storm-tossed hearts I love, currents of grief I cannot calm. Yet even as these tempests swirl beyond my reach, I walk through my days, carrying the weight of these storms alongside my own. There’s so much to do, and not enough of me to do it all. Every hour feels borrowed, every task half-finished. No matter how hard I try, I’m never enough—never caught up, never steady, never measuring to the height I think You expect of me.

I reach for You, but the heavens feel silent. I pray and plead, yet no answer comes. The storm rages louder than Your voice, and I wonder if You’re still near. I'm exhausted. And I can't do this.

But you can God. You can do all things, and with You, nothing is impossible (Luke 1:37).

I remember that Your Spirit moves upon the face of the waters (Genesis 1:2), and from chaos, You bring forth Creation. You bring order to the tumult, light to the darkness, peace to the turmoil. Though I sink into the deep, surrounded by the chaos, You lift me with your mercy (Jonah 2:5-6); though I am caught in the torrents and floods, they will not overcome me—for You are with me (Isaiah 43:2).

Like Peter, I step onto the waves, trembling, and begin to sink. I cry, “Lord! Save me!” And even as my chest fills with fear, I feel Your hand hold me fast (Matthew 14:28-31). You whisper “Peace, be still” and the winds obey You. The waves calm, and even my heart begins to quiet (Mark 4:37-41). You are mightier than the crashing waters; no storm can match your strength (Psalm 93:4).

Like the sailors of old who relied on the unchanging nature of the stars above to guide them in their journeys into the unknown, I place my complete trust in a God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever to direct me through my own tempestuous typhoons (Hebrews 13:8). When I find myself engulfed in torrents of exhaustion and waves of fear and gales of insecurity, and destruction seems entirely imminent, I have but to look up towards Your light and I know I'll be led to calmer waters. I know my path will be directed (Proverbs 3:5-6). I know I'll be ok.

So this is my plea: Lead me beside still waters Lord (Psalm 23:2). Help me be still and know that You are God (Psalm 46:10). Help me persevere—buoy me up day by day and lend me strength when my reserves are drained. Let Your river flow through me, bringing life wherever it touches (Ezekiel 47:1–9). Let it reach the corners of my mind where fear has nested, the chambers of my heart weighed down with guilt, the spaces where doubt has lingered. Let it pour over me like a pure river of life, clear as crystal, freely given to whosoever will drink (Revelation 22:1–2,17). Restore me, Lord, and make me whole again. Let the Living Water that once stilled the seas and calmed the storms also quiet my heart. Don’t let me quit. Don’t let me go.

You are my Father and I am Your daughter. I love you with my whole soul. I will praise You in the sunshine and in the storms, through the floods and the gales, through the exhaustion and the insecurities and the fears until I reach the calm of Your eternal shore. Because I know You are by my side no matter what. And I know You love me no matter what. And that's enough.

Forever and always Your beloved child,

Avery

Avery Palenske loves autumn! Surrounded by a beautiful mosaic of changing leaves, delicious fall-flavored desserts, cozy aromatic candles, and the onset of snow-dusted mountain peaks. Despite the inevitability of change in the air, she is grateful for the constant, weekly opportunities she has to workshop as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.