Especially when it is fresh. It's like a razor cut through your soul. You cannot feel it as it slices through the fog of shock, of horror, of unfathomable circumstances.
When I walk through the valley of the shadow of death with my own memories, or with others as they face their own hours of mourning...sometimes there is so little within me that can pull breath from the air. I think God barely hears a whisper. It's then I hold onto the promise that when my prayers are without form, vitality, or hope... that the Spirit within me groans with me and intercedes on my behalf.
Tonight I mourn with a Mother, a father, a son. A precious family who has lost a son, a brother. Their pain is beyond any we can comprehend. It's a lonely journey they must walk, together and individually. Only God can comfort them in the deepest recesses of their souls as we clumsily come along side through condolences, touch, hugs, and prayers we lift on their behalf.
God be with the Caners. Bless Jill with rest, Ergun with strength and wisdom, and Drake with faith unwavering. Help them breathe, Oh Lord. Help them breathe.
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