When your mama turns 50, you can’t be there to embrace her. A million continent miles stand between you.
Your heart clenches tight, your eyes leak your pain, and you’re sure a million miles just might kill you.
You’ve counted the cost. And you do it again. A million miles offered up on the altar.
But as you watch them burn up (sweet aroma to Him, you pray), you think of another million miles. The chasm between God and man.
Though it’s long been bridged by God Man blood, (and by grace, through faith you’ve crossed it), still so few know that Eternal Balm came to mend the million mile tear in their hearts. You have to stay and tell them.
A million miles. How strange that the thing that rends your heart is the very thing that compels you to stay.