Sometimes I feel a vast sorrow wedged deep within myself. It is not close to the surface, cannot be easily washed out by happy things—by writing, or sunshine, or the presence of lovely company. No, it is abysmal, untouchable, a fervent longing for something unknown. There is an ache, a violent ache, for the lost, the lonely, the hurt and confused. My heart is heavy as I remember that the world is breaking. Breaking, yet constantly refusing the only One who can save it. All around me things are falling, people are falling, the very earth uttering forth a desperate cry for help. Oh, if only, if only, if only they knew. How wonderful is He, the Savior, our God! He is hope, He is peace, He is strength and glory and goodness! And God so loves the world; in spite of everything, He is here with us, He will help us. The world is breaking, yet it lies in His hands. And one day, though it be nothing but a heap of ruins crumbled in His palms, He will mend it. Eternally.
The World is Breaking // t.c. (via herwords-unspoken)
