Listen… …listen to the sound of the wind brushing the bricks. That wind… has traveled from the hills of Galilee to these steps of yours. It knows your name. …and it does not hurry. Look around you. See? There… the young mother with the baby on her hip. She is not late for work—she is right on time. There… the old man who smells like last night’s beer. He is not lost—he is found… just doesn’t know it yet. And there… the teenager with the earbuds in, staring at the ground. He thinks the world is too loud. I say… the world is too quiet. Blessed… are the poor. Not poor in pocket—but poor in pride. The ones who know… they need. And the moment you know you need— —I already have. Blessed… are those who mourn. Not the ones who cry because the team lost. But the ones who weep because they see the cracks… in their own heart… in their child’s eyes…  ...