Today I met Patrick.
Patrick, who is 24. Patrick who has his whole life ahead of him. Patrick, who used to be free. Patrick, who since 2004 has been bound to a bed. Patrick, who because he dropped a suitcase, was brutally beaten by the LRA until his back was broken making him a paraplegic.
We prayed for him, and tears flowed down my cheeks.
Flowed out of sorrow, out of empathy, and out of complete brokenness.
I've been trying to figure out what I was supposed to learn from this situation, and only one thing has stuck out.
That every single day, God's heart is completely broken for each one of us, and for me.
That all of the sorrow I felt standing over Patrick, was a small reflection that you catch in a silver spoon, distorted, and barely visible in comparison to the wholeness of His heart break for us every minute of everyday.
And that constantly, each one of us, no matter our specific situation, trial, or suffering, is absolutely drowning in the tears of His empathy and His perfect love.
