The Storm

Dear Lord,
      Standing is not so easy when often I'd prefer throw myself down.  I admit that sometimes it feels like the wind as well wishes to paste me to the ground.  Either way this is where I find myself.
      I know that "we keep our confessions long and when we pray we keep it short," but honestly I'm not sure if there is enough breath for either of the sort. So here I am looking for myself.
      Well, here I lay and, frankly, have yet to even try and move.  Being in this sad situation has sadly led me to believe that I should pin the blame on You.  Who am I?

      Until You pass by.  Enough comfort for the storm. Enough comfort, for now I realize that
                 I am Yours.