A funeral. Of a friends child.
Lost to us in circumstances unbearably tragic.
Words cannot express.
Later in the day.
A moment of solitude in the car.
The grief, the weight, the groaning, crowds in on me.
How to pray? There is no way to fix this, to soften death’s harsh blow.
So I sit
In the silence.
And in the groaning too deep for words.
Holding the unspeakable before God.
Crumpled there, crushed under its weight
Resting there, pressed by the weight of His His presence.
Grateful for the Holy Spirit
Who intercedes for us in our weakness.
With groanings too deep for words.
Maranatha, come Lord Jesus.