My favorite singer in the world is my Mom (my second favorite would be my little sister; I'll freely admit my bias). She is the first person I remember singing. I can hear her voice clearly in my head. I simply love to hear Mom sing.
For several years, Mom sang the song "Breath of Heaven" for a Christmas dinner theater production. It's a beautiful song sung from the perspective of Mary as she wrestles with the doubts and fears of carrying Jesus. I remember Mom on several occasions suggesting that someone else sing the song since she was not in the same age range in which scholars believe Mary was. It is perhaps the only time I'm glad we didn't listen to her.
There is a sequence in the song in which Mary, seemingly at the end of her rope, prays:
Help me be strong.
Help me be.
When I hear my Mom sing that, it absolutely destroys me. It's a prayer that resonates deeply with me. Because I want to be strong so that I may be the person that God has made me to be. And then sometimes I need the help to be human. And sometimes I just need help.
I believe we all experience those moments. Those moments are scattered throughout scripture and especially in the Psalms. They are moments when the writers are at the end of their rope and cry out to God for salvation. I believe we often think that faithfulness comes from the place of great strength. More often than not, trust in God comes from a place of utter brokenness.
God, help us be strong.
Help us be.