I cried for David. For the little boy who wants so desperately to be loved, yet pushes away and punishes those who love him most, his family.
I cried for the hope that is diminishing a little each day. A hope that he will see that what he is doing is wrong, and the way he treats people is wrong.
I cried out in prayer. Something that I do everyday. Pray. Does God hear my prayers? I believe that he does.
I believe that David was brought into our lives for a reason. Ours is not to question why. Yet we struggle daily with his behaviors, his attitude, the words he says, the things he does. We struggle.
Is this a test of our faith?
I cried today. Sometimes, when you don’t know what else to do, there is nothing left after prayer except tears to help rehabilitate your spirit.
Cry. It is an honest emotion, and there is nothing wrong with being human enough to shed tears. This is survival.