Lord, You have make my pain yours.

 Of course. Here is a poem that explores the profound and intimate truth that God does not merely observe our pain from a distance, but takes it upon Himself as His own.

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I came to You with my silent grief, A burdened heart,seeking relief. I thought to show You where it bled, And ask for comfort,to be led. I thought You’d look from heaven’s throne Upon a pain You’d never known.

But You did not just nod and see, Or speak a word from far away to me. You stepped into my shattered space, And looked upon me,face to face. You did not say,“Be healed, be whole,” Then leave me to mend my own soul.

Instead, You opened up Your hand And asked to understand. You said,“Give me the weight, the ache, the sting,” And then You did the deepest thing: You have made my pain Your own.

The tears I cried, You counted them, And did not dismiss a single one. You wore my sorrow like a crown, You took my breaking and knelt down. “He took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.” In my darkest of nights,new hope borrows.

For this is love that has no end— Not just a ruler,but a friend. The God who numbers every star, Collects the pieces of who we are. He does not hide from our despair, But breathes it in as holy air.

So I will bring You all my pain, The falling tears,the freezing rain. I will not hide my wounded part, For You have taken it to heart. You have made my pain Yours,a sacred exchange, And in that mystery,everything can change.