Lord Jesus, what do You want to say to me about the way You love Yourself and the way You want me to love myself?
My dear sweet darling child, I know you are hurting over the pain of the deeply lost people you met today. I know you are suffering with My heart. I know the pain of the world overwhelms you. I know you are overwhelmed with the pain of those who have gotten up close where you can see.
There has to be a grieving in between death and resurrection, just as I wept for Lazarus before I raised him. I would not be as beautiful if I did not weep before I healed. The resurrection is coming, and healing is coming, and hope is coming, and justice is coming, and mercy is coming–justice and mercy are both coming, these two things for which your heart is crying out, though you do not fully understand.
It’s OK to cry. It’s OK to feel “depressed.” It’s OK to weep, mourn, lament, grieve, sorrow. You have My permission to feel all these things. It’s OK to need Me to hold you.
I didn’t create you to be OK with the unraveling of My creation. I am not OK with it either. It affects Me, and it affects you too, because you dare to love. The invitation to love both God and man, your neighbor, (and yes I know it is a command, but in this context I am choosing to call it an invitation) is an invitation to sorrow. Because both God and man are sorrowing over the brokenness of creation and the onslaught of sin.
It’s OK to feel that. You don’t have to be happy all the time, sweetheart. Happiness is just one color in the beautiful watercolor paint palette of emotions that I gave to you when I created you. It’s beautiful, but it’s more beautiful when you use them all together in the right ways. I know your culture is obsessed with using just that one color to paint over everything, but I have given them all to you, because I love you.
So dare to grieve with Me. Dare to love a broken world with Me. And dare to love yourself while you do it.