They always seem to need me.
To sharpen the pencil– to answer the question.
To resolve the argument– to tie the shoe.
To listen to the story– to read the book– to wipe away the tears.
To wash the face– to find the socks– to fold the laundry.
They clamor for me with their needs, seeing not that I am the neediest of them.
I am tired– I am sad.
I am achy– I am hungry.
Sometimes I yearn for just a moment of peace.
But always they need me.
One untied shoe– I can handle this.
But there is always another. Always another question to be answered, another nose to be wiped.
Always someone needing the reminder that they are loved and cared for.
Some days the moments of peace are few, the moments of rest a far-off dream.
When it seems everyone needs something from me– something I don’t have to give– He is there.
When they need my help, He is my Help.
When the noise fills my ears, He is my Peace.
Always there, meeting my desperate needs, so that I can turn to another with a tissue or sought-for sock.
He never tires of my needs.
Let me not grow weary in well-doing, Oh Lord.