April 16, 2013

The Friends

As soon as they had heard about the calamity (actually multiple tragedies cascading, one after the other), the three began their journey to see him.

At first they did not recognize him. He had changed — scrawny, eyes hollowed out from the now drooping cheeks, seated almost lifeless, covered in ash and filth. It was if he had endured torture and was now barely holding on as death waited nearby to claim its prize.

They had come to comfort and mourn, but wailed and were shocked at what they saw. And then they just sat down on the cold hard ground alongside of him and said nothing. They sat there for seven days and seven nights and no one spoke. Sometimes grief is so very great that silence is the only offering of respect. They waited until he was ready to talk.   Read this devotional thought by Bill Brant