hold on

I am worn out by the weight of grief and hopelessness I carry on another’s behalf.  It is a heavy thing to come to the end of life and face the spectre of an eternity without the Source of all hope, of life and beauty and joy.

A week from now, I’ll be in Wisconsin at my grandfather’s bedside, in all probability the last time I’ll ever see him.  Not just on this earth, but for all time.  I beg the Father daily to break the hardness in his heart.  There is a glimmer of hope still, I suppose.  But I cannot see it.  Oh God, forgive my faithless, fainting heart.

“Thus says the LORD, the God of David your father: I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will heal you.”

“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle.  Are they not in your book?”


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