
It was a bad day (days, weeks) when I felt a sadness that was so … profound. It filled all of me, right down to my soul, darkening even the light of life within me.
The reason for this profound sadness is far less important than the salve, the comfort that was given in response to it’s presence.
My hubby is a great guy, who is always eager to help myself or our kids. He will always drop what he is doing to help us out.
Here’s the thing … he does not like or know what to do with tears. This has, at times been a problem, for a wife and two daughters with enough estrogen to produce oceans of tears. So, I simply do not (generally) allow tears to fall in his presence (not that I am a frequent crier).
On this particular day, when the sadness was so heavy, so profound, I flopped onto the bed, hoping to catch a Sunday nap beside hubby.
The thing was that I could no longer keep the sadness in, and it began pouring from my eyes, unstoppable sobs rattling my entire body. The grief of my sadness emanating from the sorrow within me.
All of a sudden strong and loving arms reached out and around me, surrounding me in comfort and care. He kissed the top of my head, holding me tight.
I lay there, wrapped in loving arms and wet from my tears, for unknown minutes.
No wordy solutions to fix my unfixable, no platitudes … just the comfort from one, giving out of weakness, to one who felt weak.
His actions were like bandages for my broken heart. He didn’t try to make it all better, he just reminded me that I was worth it. He was Jesus, with skin on, to me that day.
He heals the brokenhearted,
and bandages their wounds.
Psalm 147:3
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