purgatorialsociety:

Infírmus, et visitástis me

I was sick and you visited Me

We are all broken. We are in pieces strewn about. Every move to regroup ourselves is lost in but another dismantled member falling aside. Yet, still, we look among the wounded and shattered brothers and sisters and judge. I am not as broken as you. My heart still beats and has some warmth. Better than your cold heart of stone.

How we add foolishness to our own poverty! Every beaten soul is our soul. Every lost child is our own child. Every heart spilling out is our own heart.

Everyone in need is Christ.