I rub his back. I squeeze his finger. "She will come back. She loves you, because you're her son."
His sobbing quietly continues. I want to take him home, and never let him see hurt again. I want to protect his heart from the world. "We're almost home. It will be ok."
"But she's not at home! I just want my mom!" He sobs into his knees, realizing that home is no longer.
"I am sorry. It will be ok. She still loves you." I hold him, quietly crying with him.
Jesus says, "Bring him to me. I will carry him. I will heal him. I will wipe his tears away, giving him hope and love instead of sadness. I will show him what love is, and how to fill the hole in his heart."
Jesus, please protect his heart. Hold him in your hand, as you have promised.
