Abba Father,
My heart aches for Jerusalem, for My people, for those I was sent to love, to heal, and to restore. How often have I stretched out My hands to them, longing to gather them near, like a mother hen gathers her chicks beneath her wings. I have spoken truth, shown mercy, performed wonders, and yet, they would not come.
They turn from Me, Father. They chase after shadows, clinging to law but forsaking love. They honor Me with their lips, but their hearts are far from Us. Still, My love does not waver. My compassion does not fail.
I weep for them, not only for the city, but for every soul who chooses distance over nearness. I long to shelter them from the storm, to cover them with grace, to draw them into the safety of Your presence.
Father, forgive them. Open their eyes. Soften their hearts. Let them see that I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Send laborers into the harvest. Stir the hearts of the remnant. And when they are ready, when they call upon My name, I will be waiting, arms open wide.
Even now, I am knocking at the door of their hearts.
Amen.
Returning to Intimacy 
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