Come, Jesus

Our little Vava got sick tonight.

I was out when Patrick texted me she was sick, and on my way home, my heart repeated one of her own tiny urgent prayers. 

"Come, Jesus! Help, Jesus!"

The cry of every longing heart.

This beautiful carol says it best.

And the answer: he did come, and when he left, he sent the Comforter.

We are so blessed.  When we suffer, it is not without hope.  When we cry out, we are heard.  When we weep, we are not alone.  Whatever sorrow we endure, it will accomplish his purpose and it will end.

Because God is with us.
(God! With us! Rejoice -- rejoice!)

However you are suffering, however you cry out, I pray for  His comfort in your heart.

Merry Christmas, friends.
Xo.