I know your heart is full of anguish & longing — mine is too. How I have longed to gather you beneath my plumage; as a mother hen gathers her vulnerable chicks—shielding them from all that would seek to do them harm. I would treat your wounds with the balm of my presence & cure your sorrow with the sound of my laughter. Oh if you only knew how I delight in you. But you have been wayward sons & daughters— Jerusalem the Holy City slaughters the prophets & those who are sent to seek and save it. Yet I would gather you even still; —children who cannot believe a promise only because it isn't the way you imagined it. —children who cannot believe my words because your eyes have yet to see them come true. But it was for this reason Beloved that I have come.
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