Blessed are the mentally ill, the depressed, the burnt-out, the overwhelmed, the weary, the lonely, the doubting, the empty-hearted.
Blessed are those who are so poor (in Greek, ptôchos, utterly without resources) that all they can do is hide from the world around them.
Blessed are they who are so bowed down by fear and exhaustion and harsh words that they cannot even lift their heads.
Blessed are they, because it is at the last dregs of themselves that they see who it is that God loves.
Blessed are they, because it is then that they see that it is not the person who could cover himself in gold or hide herself in a fine house of wit who is precious to God.
It is this person who so lacks everything who is so truly precious.
It is who they are at the root, at the bare bottom, at the end of their strength and resources.
It is not what they can do for God, but who they are and were created to be.
Blessed are they, because they can be entrusted with the kingdom from the ground up.
Blessed are they, because God calls them first to be his when they are nothing; and everything they grow into after that is infused with his regard, his power, his ability to see.
Blessed are they, because there is nothing to stop them from becoming as like God himself as any human beings ever will.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.