Listen to my voice. My words pierce your heart but bring healing. Let the infection gush out. Let me pour healing salve into your wounds. Let me bring healing.
Of course this hurts. Pain is not evil but only a sign of a wound. You have lost a part of yourself. The two were one and that was ripped away.
Of course you have pain. But I will heal you. I bring newness. I transform.
I will never leave you. I will never be torn from you.
Rest in me. Lay your head on my chest. Feel my arms holding you close. Feel my warm embrace.
I am with you always, to the end of the age.
Always.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
Let the petals rain over the ones battered by this world’s hurts and loss.
Be my girl of vibrant colors, of delicate flowers, of graceful blossoms.
Share the beauty of healing.
Love them as I love you.
And as I love them.
To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory.
Consider the blades of a windmill, spinning in the wind.
Although you can’t control the wind, you can harness its power when you let the windmill blades spin.
Think of the blades as your interests and abilities–gifts from me.
During times of grief, you wish the blades would stop spinning. You don’t want any changes. You think that allowing the wind to produce fresh energy – a new life that your loved one will never share with you – is disloyal.
You know better. When the center needs attention, pour oil into it. Prepare the windmill and welcome the wind. It will produce newness.
Stay alert to the winds of change. We still have much to do together.
Praise the Lord, for he has shown me the wonders of his unfailing love. He kept me safe…
