He Hears the Cry of Your Heart

Evening, morning
and noon
I cry out in distress,
and he hears my voice.
[Ps 55:17]

The silent thief came in the night, robbing spunk and freedom from sweet Ruthie.

Difficult days marched on as she struggled with the most common tasks of daily living. On a particularly good day, when her unique personality seemed temporarily in place and she seemed a bit more aware and alert, I knelt before her wheelchair and simply asked; "How you feelin', Ruthie?"

"I'll just be glad when I'm free."

Such few words to convey her profound belief. Her frustration evident and understood. Her hope had not been stolen that fateful night. Nor was her faith. She clung -- to something far greater than that chair.

She awaits the Day. The Glorious Day. The Day of her Emancipation. When her body will no longer fail her and hold her captive.

My only response; "He hears you, Ruthie. He hears the cry of your heart."

Father, our faith clings to the knowledge that You hear the distress calls of the suffering. Whisper to their hearts that You hear, that You are near. Encourage hope and comfort Your children. Amen.