Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Just let me love you....

In a little less than two months, Michaela, you will have been missing for 26 years. In all that time, if you are alive, I think it might have become harder and harder to even believe that there was a life before the one you live now. But there was. And this is what I am praying for, that God will bring these things to your mind, that he will tell you that I love you, and remind you that he loves you, that you will be freed. And if you are free, and you want to remain where you are, then all I ask is that you contact me, free me from this not-knowing and from all the dreadful imaginings that fill that not-knowing, and just let me love you, from near, from far ... just let me love you.

mom

7 comments:

  1. <3 <3 I pray every day for her safe return home <3 <3 God bless you and Michaela

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  2. Aww, this was so precious Sharon and brought tears to my eyes.
    Dear God please grant this prayer Sharon has lifted to you about her precious Daughter Michaela. You hear her hearts cry. We are praying for the Miraculous. In Jesus name Amen.

    Love, Hugs, and Prayers always to You, Michaela, and All of your family
    from Thelma Mandera <3 <3

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  3. Bug hugs and undying hope that she someday returns to your loving arms.

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  4. Greetings Everyone.
    Sharon :*( Your journey matters!
    I thought of you when I viewed a special story on another blog tonight called “The Christ of Joy and Sorrow”. It is about Sorrow and Joy having a conversation and their life experience after meeting Christ—Please take gentle care.. P.M.R
    “Sorrow was beautiful, but his beauty was the beauty of the moonlight shinning through the leafy branches of the trees in the woods. His gentle light made little pools of silver here and there on the soft green moss of the forest floor. And, when he sang, his song was like the low, sweet calls of the nightingale, and in his eyes was the unexpectant gaze of someone who has ceased to look for coming gladness. He could weep in tender sympathy with those who weep, but to rejoice with those who rejoice was unknown to him.
    Joy was beautiful too, but hers was the radiant beauty of a summer morning. Her eyes still held the happy laughter of childhood, and her hair glistened with sunshine’s kiss. When she sang, her voice soared upward like a skylark’s, and her steps were the march of a conqueror who has never known defeat. She could rejoice with anyone who rejoices but to weep with those who weep was unknown to her.
    Sorrow longingly said “We can never be united as one.” “No never,” responded Joy, with eyes misting as she spoke, “for my path lies through the sunlit meadows, the sweetest roses bloom when I arrive, and songbirds await my coming to sing their most joyous melodies.”
    “Yes, and my path,” said Sorrow, turning slowly away, “leads through the dark forest, and moonflowers, which open only at night, will fill my hands. Yet the sweetest of all earthly songs-the love song of the night-will be mine. So farewell dear Joy farewell.”
    Yet even as Sorrow spoke, he and Joy became aware of someone standing beside them. In spite of the dim light, they sensed a kingly Presence, and suddenly a great and holy awe overwhelmed them. They then sank to their knees before Him.
    “I see him as the King of Joy,” whispered Sorrow, “for on His head are many crowns, and the nail prints in His hands and feet are the scars of a great victory. And before Him all my sorrow is melting away into deathless love and gladness. I now give myself to Him forever.”
    “No, Sorrow,” said Joy softly, “for I see Him as the King of Sorrow, and the crown on His head is a crown of thorns and the nail prints in His hands and feet are the scars of terrible agony. I also give myself to Him forever. For sorrow with Him must be sweeter than any joy I have ever known.”
    “Then we are one in Him” they cried in gladness, “for no one but He could unite Joy and Sorrow.” Therefore they walked hand in hand into the world, to follow Him through storms, and sunshine, through winter’s severe cold and the warmth of summer’s gladness, and to be sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.
    From Streams in the Desert by Charles E. Cowman “ (((heart-hugs)))

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    Replies
    1. This was beautiful, "From Streams in the Desert" I have and love that book.

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    2. :-) !!Such special blog comments here and on FB !heartfelt uplifts continue. Hi THELMA I first viewed the story on this blog : http://katiejgibson.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/the-christ-of-joy-and-sorrow.html
      And now I want to enjoy my own copy of the beautiful book too <3 SHARON I could so see a remarkable Devotional written by you too someday!
      http://www.amazon.com/Streams-Desert-Mrs-Charles-Cowman/dp/0310244374

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  5. Sharon, I have not posted here in a long time, but Michaela is always in my heart and prayers, and I visit your blog often. Although I did not know Michaela, she has touched my heart and the hearts of thousands of people. I continue to pray that she is in your arms again one day.

    Radhika

    Radhika

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