Walking down the stairs with those heavy legs and full brain I see a lego, a pair of underwear and an old piece of mail. I ignore them and hobble to the bathroom. The room where the toilet paper has been pulled so far out that it has been rerolled around the tube in a jumbled mess. Where my feet sit on a toddler stool as I tinkle. Where the soap is at the front edge of the sink, just where short people on a twelve inch stool can reach. The hand towel sits there too as the sink is stained with old remnants of soap.
God doesn’t come and go. God lasts.
He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath.
And he knows everything, inside and out.
He energizes those who get tired,
gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.
They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don’t get tired,
they walk and don’t lag behind.