When I grieve alone

I was plunged deep into a hidden pain yesterday, a pain I am quiet about because I do not want to hurt others by revealing my own hurt in the wrong way. (Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God... I Corinthians 10:32)

Moonrise in November
Yet in the depths, when the tears become a river, and the sobs escape even though I hug my knees to my chest hard and dig my nails into my own flesh...it is the Man of Sorrows who sits with me in my grief. A baby born to die...who escaped the murder of all male infants ordered by an evil king...the one who prayed that the cup of the Cross be lifted from his trembling lips. Emmanuel...God with us. He is here, Emmanuel, on the bathroom floor with me as I weep. Inside my broken heart, feeling every awful twinge and groaning for me at the Mercy Seat.

"Man of Sorrows, what a name
For the Son of God who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
~ Phillip Bliss, 1875 ~