It’s incredibly sad to see mental illness passed down to your children. Recently, my 11 year old told me that he’d rather be dead than go to school. He had friends over and spent about an hour crying over seemingly little nuances.
Fortunately, he is blessed with a couple of tender hearted boys as his friends. Instead of making fun of him, they put their arms around him, listened to him and comforted him.
It wasn’t too long before a smile once again lit up his face.
It’s a little like Easter. First comes the devastation of the cross. You can’t get much lower than killing God. But just like Eli’s smile reappeared, God raised Christ from the dead.
Sometimes hope is coming. We just have to wait for it.