Life will never be the same.

My heart is damaged
and cannot be put back to the way it was.

This wound –

a scab will form over it

(but even that will tear from time-to-time
and begin to bleed anew) –

can never heal.


I will carry this heaviness to my grave.
I will bear this hard thing till death claims me.

Lord, give grace  –

though every thought be weighed down,
every smile come with grief,
every laugh wrap dolour  –

that I might still know deep joy in You.









Day 2