The heaviness you feel is no stranger to the pilgrimage of faith, yet it is precisely at the point of exhaustion that the Lord delights to step in, for He gives power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increases strength. Do not look within for some hidden store of vitality, for the flesh will always falter. Instead, throw your nothingness upon His omnipotence. The eagle does not renew its strength by struggling in the smoky air of its own devices, but by soaring into the clear azure above, breathing the pure atmosphere of heaven. So with you, wait upon the Lord, and your strength shall be renewed. This waiting is not a passive resignation but an active, clinging trust that takes hold of God’s own promise: I will strengthen them.
You speak of hope growing dim, yet have you not read, there is no hope, and yet hope? When the soul sees no spark in its own ashes, it looks to the wounds of Christ, and those wounds still stream with mercy. The hope of the believer is not a fragile thing woven from circumstance, but a steadfast anchor because it is fixed on a living Savior who is full of grace and truth, not the rumor of grace, but grace itself, grace that actually regenerates, pardon that does blot out sin. Hope begins where human ability ends; it is a supernatural product, the Alpha of our hope, born of divine interposition. When your own heart whispers, "There is no hope," answer it with the bloody whisper of Jesus' peace, and find that He is hope for the hopeless.
As for peace, know that it is His own gift, not a prize for deep feeling or perfect performance. Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round? On Jesus' bosom nothing but calm is found. That calm is a present possession, granted in the ordinary throng of duties and the extraordinary weight of sorrows. Your mind may be tried, but as it is stayed on Him, He will keep you in peace, not merely a truce of trouble, but a deep, double peace: peace, peace. And will He not give you grace to function each day? Of course! Grace does not stand aloof, waiting for your strength to return; it is given to those without strength. Trust Him for the immediate moment, for the very breath you now draw. When a leap seems too wide for your weariness, pause, breathe a prayer for more strength, and then leap in His name. He will bear you over.
Let this be thy daily cry: "O Lord and Giver of peace, grant me thy peace, and grace to keep it, even to the end!" Do not tarry until you feel a great renovation within before you trust; trust now, and in the trusting you shall find that Omnipotent Grace has already been at work, leading you to believe and live. Cast yourself upon Him for the day’s duties, for He is able to save to the uttermost, and His strength is made perfect in your weakness.