Matthew 5:4

My heart is broken and it weeps.

Widows who sit on the edge of their beds, face down and can't hide tears.

A man crushed by the anxiety of the suffering world but nowhere to go, stubborn and unbelieving and unsleeping. He grabs for Tylenol PM and shallow breaths to wash down the sleep-waiting.

Orphans with hearts melted and stuck to the ground from the hopeless wait of someone to call them "Mine."

I weep for them and my heart swallows tight and pleads with the Father. How I wish I could be in their room, and swallow their tears and scrape up feelings and wrap arms so tight they know they're loved.

In my Father's house there are many rooms, and He prepares a place and wraps warm blankets and promises love forever and is the never-ending giver of forever-safe hugs and "You're Mine" kisses. And He is Trustworthy.

So I pour my tears into prayers and His heart weeps too. A promise to hold so tight and squish into my arms is this: you who mourn will be comforted. Praise to God the Father forever and ever. 


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