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 elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. The evening air felt heavy, almost as heavy as the ache in his chest.
That morning, he had tried very hard to fix a problem at school. He had studied for a test all by himself, refusing help from his teacher and even brushing off his mother’s offer to pray with him. “I can handle it,” he had said.
But he hadn’t handled it.
The red marks on his paper felt like ashes in his hands. He had worked hard, yet he still failed. Worse than the grade was the quiet voice inside him whispering, You’re not good enough.
His father stepped outside and sat beside him. For a few
No moral points provided.
No reflection questions provided.