"blessed are those who mourn (over sin and suffering)
for they shall be comforted."
I look around and am tempted to believe failure. Piles that need tending. Laundry that needs folding. Dishes that need washing. Floors that need sweeping.
People that need loving.
I need loving.
I entertain thoughts of insignificance and tears drip. So I seek the Comforter. I ask His opinion. I invite Him in with a vulnerable glance upward, like a child seeking her daddy's validation.
And He reaches down. Tender.
He says I'm His. Precious. Loved. Purposed. Beautiful. A symphony of notes that He wrote.
He wipes my eyes and lifts my chin. He brushes the hair from my face and breathes life and hope and Truth.
The sheets still sit in the basket. The week's artwork still waits on the counter. Waiting for another day. But He lifts this wayward heart out of the mire. And I praise.
Bringing it home...
We all have times when discouragement and depravity settles down heavy. But I want to only give my minutes or hours to those times rather than my days or weeks or years.
Comfort comes as we bring those emotions to His feet--honest and raw. Allowing His Word to wash over those severed places. Allowing His Spirit to minister with the healing balm of Truth.
Do you need to get alone with your Father and be real? Don't let another day pass.
What Truth does He give to comfort you?