There are moments when I sit with God and realize I don’t even have the words anymore. No clear sentences. No perfect prayers. Just a tired heart that still turns toward Him. I used to think I needed to say everything the right way. That I had to explain it all, organize it all, make sense of what I was feeling before I brought it to Him. But I am learning He already understands. He sees the weight I carry before I speak it. He knows the thoughts that keep me awake. He feels the quiet ache I try to hide behind strength. And still, He welcomes me. Not with expectation, but with compassion. So I come as I am. With the worries I cannot fix. With the questions that keep circling. With the heaviness I am tired of holding. And I place it all in His hands again. Not because I suddenly feel strong, but because I know He is. I am learning that surrender is not losing control. It is finally releasing what was never mine to carry alone. And when I let go, even a little, something shifts. My breathing slows. My thoughts quiet. My heart softens in His presence. Because He is not overwhelmed by what overwhelms me. He is steady. He is near. He is already holding what I keep trying to pick back up. So tonight, I am choosing to trust Him again. With the fear. With the unknown. With every part of me that feels worn. I may not have the words. But I have Him. And that is enough.