Comfort

Mourning is such a difficult thing to do. It depletes the eyes of necessary moisture by using it all up and then leaves you tired from the dehydration. Well maybe that isn’t it exactly but you do end up soggy and foggy, like two of the more annoying and less cute dwarfs he princess and woodland creatures cleaned for. I am making light of it because sometimes you have to. It is no joke to lose that which is sacred to you, held as valuable. To lose something like a person is enormous, to lose two is almost unbearable. And yet I am writing rather than weeping uncontrollably (after the weeping uncontrollably first of course). One reason is that the joy of the Lord is my strength. He chooses to comfort me with joy. Secondly, God is my Heavenly Father and loves me so much that He hates seeing my heart break and comforts me with invisible arms that squeeze me tight and close and soft whispers of His sufficiency. If God is my Daddy, He will be everything I counted on my Daddy for. He will love me, protect me, be with me, take care of me. And He always will because He loves me. And when I forget for a minute, He is quick to forgive when I remember to ask Him to and keep holding me. And if His arms are all ya got, they are enough. He will make them so. And he also provided me with a visit from my wonderful cousin and his family just at the right time. I am never alone. He sees and knows me. I am not alone.

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