Rivers of ivory eyeshadow cast a shimmery glow down her pale cheeks. She was alone in a sea of women. A retreat suggested by her pastor's wife. Just two short weeks before, at 20 weeks pregnant, she had lost her baby.
Because of Your mercy, Because of Your truth, Why should the Gentiles say, "So where is their God?"
She was sharing a room with 3 women from church. One of them, the key speaker. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Bloodshot. Her nose continually running. A yearning inside her cried out for the touch of a consoling hand, a sympathetic word. None was given.
But our God is in heaven; He does whatever He pleases. Their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hand. They have mouths, but they do not speak. Eyes they have, but they do not see, They have ears, but they do not hear; Noses they have; but they do not smell; They have hands, but they do not handle; Feet they have, but they do not walk; Nor do they mutter through their own throat. Those who make them are like them; So is everyone who trusts in them.
She wondered what all these women thought. This twenty-something woman of God.....was she trying to find her way? In tears she would break down at dinner or walk out during the prepared speeches, quietly unable to hold it together any longer.
O Israel, trust in the Lord; He is their help and their shield. O house of Aaron, trust in the Lord; He is their help and their shield. You who fear the Lord, trust in the Lord; He is their help and their shield.
Where was the sympathy, O Lord? The woman among the 100's to become your hands and your mouth? Are our hearts so hardened to another’s pain, our focus more on ourselves that to care for another and extend ourselves, is too much to ask?
The Lord has been mindful of us; He will bless us; He will bless the house of Israel; He will bless the house of Aaron. He will bless those who fear the Lord, Both small and great.
The rivers had flowed. Tears, the like of which had never been shed in her lifetime. Her heart mourned, bereft. Broken and still like the heart of her lifeless baby.
May the Lord give you increase more and more. You and your children. May you be blessed by the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
God took her heart and has been putting it back together piece-by-piece. Unrecognizable as her own, it has been fashioned after Another, the likeness of who she will ever strive to achieve.
The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord's; But the earth He has given to the children of men. The dead do not praise the Lord, nor any who go down into silence. But we will bless the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.
Open our mouths, O Lord. Open our hearts and ears. May we see and hear those who mourn. May we become your shoulders, to offer them up to be wept upon. May we become your mouth, to speak and let someone know they are not alone.