Boyani

In whispers soft, to Christ she spoke,

Boyani, burdened, heart awoke.

"Thank you," she said, with heavy sigh,

"For the job I hold, though I wonder why.

Though I hate it so, this daily grind,

In the shadows, my peace I find.

Supposed to lose, they say, I'm aware,

My performance weak, beyond repair.

No fruits to bear, no results to show,

In productivity's depths, I sink low.

Fatigued by the chase, worn by the race,

Yet, still, I find Your guiding grace.

For in this struggle, I learn to see,

The purpose beyond what's plain to me.

In weakness, strength, in loss, I gain,

In every trial, You ease the pain.

So, thank you, Lord, for this job I hold,

Though weary, broken, and often cold.

For in these trials, Your love I find,

Sustaining grace for heart and mind."