“You have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?”
(Psalm 56:8 NASB).

Rain falls outside my window, and dark gray clouds overcast the morning sky. Sorrow surrounds me, and my long prayer list for family and friends brings me to tears. I am honored to pray, for they have shared pieces of themselves. I take their requests to my Heavenly Father, and I tuck them into the pockets of my heart. 

As a teenager, my friend was raped. The rapist took her to a cabin in the mountains. He said and did terrible things, then left her in the snow, naked and bleeding. In some ways she is thankful, for he killed the next girl.

She showed me one of her scars. Her wound has healed, but the pain remains. I've known her story, what she has revealed, and I tucked her sorrow and pain into the pockets of my heart. I pray for her healing. I pray also for the words to say and write to show her God really does love her.  

Another friend shared her past failures. Afraid of being judged, her internal guilt and condemnation grew. She wrestled with the promises of God's forgiveness and wondered how anyone could love her if they knew. She told me, and I took her secret and cherished the fact she felt safe. I reassured her that God does forgive our sins. Because I continued to love her in spite of her failings, she accepted His truth. And I tucked her precious secret into my heart. 

My heart stays tender and full of the joys of friendship with precious memories shared between loved ones and friends. I think of God who sees every tear we cry, and He tucks them into His heart.

And one day when this life ends, we will be safe in His arms, tucked into the pocket of His heart.