My dear sister is weary. Her heart is tormented with worry, her mind taunts her with the "why's" and "what if's". Her body and spirit long for rest, but when she lays her head to the pillow, slumber eludes her.
My heart aches for her. I long to take her pain and make it my own. I ache with the desire to hold her hand and share her tears.
So I remind her that she knows the Provider. Her Father is her Helper. She can call on her Shepherd, and He will give her a peace that passes all understanding. Her God is wonderful, all-knowing, all-powerful. He is, and He will be.