Writing this poem, I pictured a hurting woman staring out her hospital window while Christ stood protectively over her. She couldn’t see him, but He was crying too, His hand resting on her shoulder. I could tell Jesus ached for her to see Him, to feel Him. I remembered His words as he stared over the ancient city, expressing his brokenness: “Jerusalem Jerusalem… how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.” Mathew 23:37 The woman at the window felt hopeless, forgotten and alone. Her …
Christian Author and Literary Agent
