Oil of Joy
“3 To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.”
Eli sat on the back steps of his house with his chin in his hands. His chest felt tight, like he had swallowed a heavy stone.
That morning at school, he had tried to do everything on his own. When his math work became too hard, he refused to ask for help. When his friend tried to explain a problem, Eli pushed the paper away. “I can do it myself,” he had said.
But he couldn’t.
By the time he got home, his paper was covered in eraser smudges. His teacher had written, “Please ask for help next time.” Eli felt embarrassed and angry—mostly at himself.
“I don’t need help,” he muttered, even though his eyes were wet.
Inside, his mother was reading her Bible. She
No moral points provided.
No reflection questions provided.