There is a cry in your words that goes deeper than words can tell, a groan for the unborn, the abandoned, and the lonely, for whole families swept away, for little ones who never saw the light of day but only the cold rejection of those who should have loved them most. You have spread all this before the Lord like a tattered garment, and He does not turn away. When the heart is so full that it can only stammer out "mercy, mercy," it has found the right language for heaven.
Do you remember Hagar by the well in the wilderness? She was a slave cast out of the house where she expected kindness, smarting under wrong, her heart seething with bitterness, and she was running from everything good, heading into a dark unknown. She had no house, no family, no friend; she had only her misery and her helpless child. And there, in that desperate place, the Angel of the Lord called her by name. God met her when she felt most forgotten, and He saw her when she thought no eye pitied her. The same God who opened Hagar's eyes to a well of water in the desert has His eye upon every lost soul and every perishing little one you have named. He is not far from any of them; He is not far from you.
The tiny babies who were despised, hated, or destroyed before they could draw a breath, you have entrusted them to God's care, and you have done well. Do not think for a moment that they slip away unnoticed. The Good Shepherd gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart. Can a mother forget her nursing child? She may, but the Lord cannot forget. His tenderness far outruns the love of the most devoted parent. When every human embrace fails, there is a bosom in heaven that welcomes the little ones into a warmth and safety that sin and sorrow can never touch. You whisper "only God can take these babies to heaven," and that is a true whisper. He does take them, and He keeps them, and not one of them is lost to the darkness.
But your prayer sweeps wider still, you are pleading for the abandoned everywhere: the wife forsaken, the husband betrayed, the daughter or son cast out, the friend left alone, the ones who have no house, no shelter, no refuge but a madhouse or the streets. Your own heart seems to beat with their terror, and you cry as a beggar yourself, aching for them. Let me put a strong word into your weariness: the Lord Jesus Christ came into this world precisely to be the refuge of those who have no other refuge. He is the Ark that rides above the deepest flood. When the waters of grief and guilt swell until every mountain of earthly hope is buried, that Ark does not sink, it lifts the poor soul nearer to God. You may feel that you and those you love are drowning under a deluge of abandonment, but if you are in Christ Jesus, you are safe. The floods only prove the sufficiency of the Ark.
And do you know what I see in your plea? I see a heart that has been touched by the very mercy it asks for. You are not coldly recounting the sorrows of strangers; you are carrying them to the throne as if they were your own. That is the mark of the dove that Noah sent out from the Ark. The dove went forth over the dark waters and returned with an olive leaf in her mouth, a token of peace, a sign that the judgment was passing away and new life was beginning. Your prayer itself is an olive leaf. It tells you that the Spirit of God has not left you comfortless, and that the God who put this burden on your heart means to answer it in ways you cannot now imagine.
Consider the wounded soldier on the battlefield. He lies bleeding his life away, and a merciful friend comes running. The friend has thought of everything: water to cool the fevered brow, salve and bandages for every wound, a stretcher carried with gentle steps, a hospital bed prepared, food suited to his weakness, even flowers to cheer his eyes. Before the poor man can ask for anything, it is already at hand. Such is the tenderness of divine mercy toward guilty sinners, toward helpless sufferers, toward every trembling soul that can do nothing but moan and trust. God has not waited for you to know all your needs before providing for them. Long before you cried out, His mercy went ahead of you. He laid by a store of love in Christ Jesus that covers every abandonment, every loss, every sorrow. You have only to draw from that store with both hands.
And hear this, for it is the very heart of the matter: God has sent a Messenger, an Interpreter, One among a thousand, His own dear Son. He does not come to scold you or to break the bruised reed under His heel. He comes with the royal commission of heaven to heal, to bind up, to restore. When Jesus Christ draws near to a sin-sick soul or a sorrow-wrecked heart, it is a sure sign that mercy is on the march. He says, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” He holds His pierced hands over the unborn, over the forsaken, over the beggar with no shelter, over you. He gathers you all into the warm, living fold of His love, and no one can snatch you out of His hand.
So let your tears fall into the wounds of Jesus. That is the holiest place for them. He who wept at the grave of His friend will not despise your weeping. He who said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me,” enfolds each aborted, miscarried, and hated child in an embrace that makes heaven their true home forever. And for every living soul wandering without family or refuge, there is a place prepared in the Father's house, where many rooms are filled with redeemed ones who once were lost.
Let us pray:
Lord Jesus, we bring before You a heavy bundle of griefs, the unborn thrown away, the abandoned and betrayed, the ones without family or shelter, and this dear soul who aches for them all. You are the Messenger of mercy; speak peace to every broken heart. You are the Interpreter; make sense of what seems senseless. You are the Ark; hold fast all who cling to You. Receive, we ask, every little lamb who never saw the light of earth into the eternal light of Your presence. Be the Husband of the widow, the Father of the fatherless, the Friend of the friendless. And for this one who prays as a beggar for mercy, grant the comfort that only Your Spirit can give, until the day when every tear is wiped away and all Your children are gathered home. In Your precious name, Jesus, we pray. Amen.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
