… every hurt is a fossil link …

I was and still am very disturbed after reading those 3 pages though I was given warning and liberty to skip them.  Yet I had my eyes half-opened, under the bedside lamp, skimmed through the lines, twitched my lips while reading along.  It is very graphically brutal.  All scenes were turned to black and white.  All sounds were turned to mute.  All my inner responses are advising otherwise.  Nothing shall be seen in a black and white television.  Nothing shall be heard with the mute button on.  For Satan was attacking and raging a war.  For Satan is also raging a similar war against little boys and girls in this very nation.  Not necessarily slitting a pregnant belly open, nor plucking fingernails away, yet in a whole new form under different disguises of pain.  I am in that mourning stage again when I am only half way through the book and also half way through translating the work of NewSong. My Holy and Awesome God determines to invite me to get to the bottom of the barrel and to walk through the valleys of death, to see what He sees now. 

I can mourn!  I can mourn openly now!  “You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more.” – Psalm 10

“Blessed are those who mourn”  – E. Peterson

Flash floods of tears, torrents of them,
Erode cruel canyons, exposing
Long forgotten strata of life
Laid down in the peaceful decades:
A badlands beauty. The same sun
That decorates each day with colors
From arroyos and mesas, also shows
Every old scar and cut of lament.
Weeping washes the wounds clean
And leaves them to heal, which always
Takes an age or two. No pain
Is ugly in past tense. Under
The Mercy every hurt is a fossil
Link in the great chain of becoming.
Pick and shovel prayers often
Turn them up in valleys of death.

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