Hard Work, Weary Body

I saw your hands today, marked by hard work, your body aching from carrying, lifting, repeating the same effort day after day, with no one seeming to notice the price it costs you. You work hard, you truly give your all, and sometimes it feels like the tiredness never lets up, not even on the weekend that was supposed to be for rest.

I am the one who gives power to the faint, and I increase strength precisely for the one who has no might left, the one who has hit the bottom of the tank. It isn't the strong I need to refill — it's exactly the exhausted, the one who has already given everything they had and still needs to keep going.

You don't have to carry everything on the strength that's left over at the end of the day. Borrow a little of mine, which never runs out, so you can keep doing this work with dignity, without destroying yourself along the way. One minute of quiet with me is already the beginning of that exchange.