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Love Does

(By Rachel Joyce)

There are some sorrows too deep for words.

Like shards of shrapnel,

Embedded in our core,

Making it hard

To even breathe deeply.

We reel from the effort it takes

Just to live this life

And pray for strength

To keep from giving up,

“God, hold me close.”

Some, passing by, offer a Band-Aid,

Fling out a verse

As they hurry past,

As though that

Would stop the hemorrhaging.

It takes compassion to draw close, to listen,

To grieve together

In this place of pain,

Where sorrow suffocates

And healing seems so far away.

Love is as love does, always true,

Holding out hope even

In the midst of darkest grief

Weeping, embracing,

Close and tender.

And healing comes almost imperceptibly,

Slowly, gently, gradually,

As the light of His presence

Cleanses, purifies, makes whole

Through the prayers of faithful friends.


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