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Partake of my joy. Imbibe of me! Suffice. Oil of my joy. Oil of my mourning. Do I not mourn when you mourn? Will you weep with ME, share MY tears. I weep for the nations. I MOURN for them. You mourn. Can you feel the bitter tears I weep? I SUFFER for them. Can you feel to an extent of MY suffering. I weep when you weep. Will you weep with ME a little? My heart languishes for them; it HURTS for them. Bitter tears. No other pain is as deep as this. No other weeping compares to this except the loss of an infant to a mother who travails over her child. Bitter tears, sorrow! The oil of joy for the bitter sorrow of mourning.
A mother longs for her child. A father weeps for His children.
Partake of my sorrow.
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