Blessing of Sorrow

May this time of sorrow be a sanctuary,

a gentle holding place for your broken heart.

May the weight of your grief find its own rhythm,

the slow beat of an ancient drum,

leading you deeper into the caverns of your pain.

There, in the silence of your soul,

may you meet the tender presence

of your own aching spirit.

 

May sorrow be not an enemy,

but a wise, quiet companion,

guiding you through the dark valleys

where no light seems to reach,

yet where your tears fall like rain

that softens the hardest earth.

 

May you find the courage to sit with your sadness,

to let it speak in its own hushed voice.

For within this raw and desolate space,

sorrow reveals itself as a teacher,

a wise elder who knows the way

through the tangled woods of despair.

 

May you trust that there is a path,

even when you cannot see it,

a way beyond this valley of shadow.

And though your heart is heavy,

though your spirit feels old and worn,

may the small seed of joy, hidden deep,

be kept safe until it is time to bloom.

 

May the colours of life return to your eyes,

like dawn breaking over a long, dark night.

May you remember the sound of laughter,

the taste of joy,

the warmth of love still beating

beneath the cold of your sorrow.

 

And when you are ready,

may you rise, slowly,

like a tender shoot from winter’s soil,

bent but not broken,

leaning towards the light.

 

May you come to know,

in the deepest marrow of your being,

that even in this vast, aching emptiness,

you are not alone.

For the same hand that holds the stars,

holds you, in your grief,

and will not let you fall.

 

May the days bring small mercies,

unexpected grace in the midst of your pain,

and may you find, in time,

that even this sorrow

has shaped you,

woven itself into the fabric of your becoming.

 

And one day,

when the time is right,

may you look back with tender eyes

and see how even this

has been a path

toward your own true self.

 

May it be so.

Amen.