Last night a friend relived her own pain to enter into the relief of that of another.
That is the same street Jesus walked.
What other use could the pain of grief and the grief of pain have?
I wonder if the light of (to)day will find my friend's heart muscle sore and tender but beautifully exercised in the service of another. Maybe somehow, not just relived but reli(e)ved for even the briefest moment.
Maybe she'll have felt her hand held by Jesus.
They are, after all, passing the same way.
Thanks, dear friend
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