I stand at the throne of God, tugging at His robe. As I look up at Him my eyes are filled with pain to great to bear. Without a word needing to be spoken He picks me up and cradles me tightly in His arms. I lay my weary head against His chest breathing in His scent of peace and comfort. Patiently He waits for me to speak as He lovingly strokes my hair.
"I hurt." I say in a whisper barely audible.
He wraps me tighter within His arms placing kisses atop my head. "I know you do My child. I know."
I close my eyes and rest, finding comfort in being held.
Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28
Makes me cry
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