Blessed Are the Mourners

I don’t have a particular reason for sharing this one today. I wrote it almost four years ago, on the death of a young coworker. I didn’t know him well, but I worked closely with his mother. I wrote it mostly thinking about her.

Blessed Are the Mourners

Originally witten July 14, 2017

“Blessed are the mourners,” crying out
In grief and in despair, a desperate “why”—
Why should this great loss happen? Should we doubt
The goodness of a God who lets us cry
Until our tears are gone, our voices hoarse,
Our hearts left empty, frozen, numb? We’re dressed
With ashes on our foreheads, sackcloth coarse—
How can we, so bereaved, be now called blessed?
Can comfort really be a better gift
Than someone’s life or legacy now lost?
Does not bereavement let us—too far‚drift?
Is not life—for this blessing—too high-cost?
And yet our Lord has called these mourners blessed—
So I must trust that he ordains what’s best.

Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

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