My arms around myself bring no comfort to me as I wail from the deepest part of my gut.

Powerless to erase the pain that life has brought, I cry anguished tears. And I wonder how far the pain can go until it destroys me. Until it turns into death.

And the wailing goes on, and the wound oozes puss.

Helpless on my own in the face of agony, I drop to my knees and call out to God. “Have mercy on me. Come! Heal! Be God to me now.”

And I remember.

His anguish in the garden.

Alone. Forsaken.  Despised.

His torment on the cross.

Ridiculed. Mocked. Weighed down.

His wailing for me.  His wailing for me.

His resurrected body that shouted victory!

Empowered to speak, I look in the mirror and speak truth to myself.

He breathes His Word in me and I trade.

My wailing for His life.

My sorrow for His joy.

My wound for His Grace.

Counting one Thousand Gifts with Ann Voskamp

#2: His wailing for me

#1: the realization that my body is a blessing to me, no matter how I see it.

Linking up with Joy in this Journey, Playdates with GodFaith filled Friday, Hear it on Sunday and Pieces of Amy



  1. powerful!!! loved this!! The cross of Christ is foolishness to those perishing but to those of us who are being saved it is the power of God!!!


  2. Jesus wailing…oh, you touched on something I needed to remember, Barbara. I think of those who heard covering their ears, shielding themselves from His pain. I think of me doing the same.


  3. What a deep way to look at the goans and agony of our Savior. I know He died for me…but I’m not sure I ever thought about it in this way. I’m so thankful for new insight into our Savior.


  4. Wow Barbara – the swops He makes for our soul are uncountable, unfathomable. Great heartfelt post and thank you for linking it up. So glad you did
    God bless


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