You Are Held Even When You're Hollow

Here's the thing nobody tells you about Lamentations — it's basically one long ugly cry. The whole book is grief and exhaustion and 'I have nothing left.' And right in the middle of that wreckage, this verse shows up like a cup of hot coffee you didn't have to make yourself. New mercies. Every morning. Even the morning after you lost your patience over spilled cereal. Even the morning after you cried in the Target parking lot for reasons you can't fully explain. Even after the night you lay awake rehearsing every way you think you're failing. God's mercies don't run out because yours did. They reset. They show up fresh, whether you feel them or not. You don't have to earn today's mercy with yesterday's performance. It's already here, waiting on the counter like grace in a mug. You're still held, mom. Even hollow. Especially hollow.