I had a fun playing around with words to make this extended metaphor. I hope it reminds you not to grow weary in the dailyness of life.
I feel like a washcloth,
Squeezed and pressed,
Twisted, wrung out dry.
I have scrubbed,
Washed and worked,
Parched, no water remains.
Oh, but I have cooled a fever,
Wiped and cleaned
Strewed crumbs and chubby hands
I’ve soaked up suds,
Mopped and tended,
Soothed delicate skin.
I need a good washing to feel
Renewed and fluffed,
Folded, ready to serve.
Keep using me, Lord.
Press on!
Vicky
“And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” Galatians 6:9