The pillow knows.
“I am weary with my groaning. Every night I flood my bed. I drench my couch with my tears. My eye wastes away because of grief. It grows old because of all my adversaries.” — Psalm 6:6-7 (WEB)
David isn’t performing grief here. He’s confessing it. “Every night” — this isn’t a one-time cry. This is chronic. Nightly. The kind of sadness that shows up on schedule like a second job. And his eyes are wasting — meaning the grief is physically changing him.
These live among our psalms for sad hearts — one psalm, one honest echo, every morning.
Quietly with you,
GodsPrompts