A heart trembling from the effort of holding on just one more day, just one more breath, cannot but overflow with tears and gratefulness when a gentle, compassionate spirit reaches out.
The crackled veneer of strength crumbles away as Light fills the dark places. The tears flow, not from pain or shame. The tears bathe the wounded places, a balm of grace and mercy.
Healing begins one breath at a time, one tear at a time, one word at a time, one gesture at a time. Bitter wounds happen suddenly, sharply, sucking away life and self-worth.
The written Word is powerful, two-edged sword, slicing through the lies and deception such that Truth can once again take hold. A gentle, compassionate spirit provides the anointing, the balm that leads to healing.
The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle and easy to be entreated. Blessed are those who are as such. Blessed are the meek, for they are instruments of healing.