Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5
Dear Heavenly Father, this title is so personal it hurts. This is my heart we are talking about. It’s mending . . . slowly, but most days, it still feels broken anew.
I speak for myself and my family. I speak for those who have not yet found their voice, their pain too fresh, too great. And I speak for all who felt they had no way out except to end their tortured lives.
How sad for all of us, Father. Please hold us when we cry. Please collect all our tears in your bottle (Psalm 56:8). Please pick us up before we falter and fall. Some days, I hear Your sweet voice speaking softly in my ear,
My blessed Child, I do weep when you weep. Your grief has reached heaven and our sadness matches yours. But all is not lost. We know what awaits you and your child who was laid to rest. He is taking a dirt nap, and for him, it will seem like it just began . . .
He won’t remember the time. And he won’t think to ask anymore than you will. You see, My coming will be so stunning, so spectacular that nothing you have ever experienced will compare.
So weep on, My Child, until relief comes. I have plenty of bottles. Just know that weeping will not last forever. It will end and then the joy will follow – a new morning filled with effervescent, fantastic joy!
~from Shattered by Suicide