A Reality Of Sorrows
And I cannot look away
I sit in a sorrowed reality
That I wish was fantasy.
My news feed filled
With violent whims,
With shock and grief,
And many rejoicing
In the reign of sin
And death.
As one image bearer
Of the most high God,
Took the life
Of another image bearer
Of the most high God.
One side praising equity
Letting killers off easy
A slap on the wrist
Then back on the street.
A knife in the neck,
A life ended too quickly,
While strangers sat idly
Hoping they weren’t next.
Another side praising amendments
Fearing any personal infringement.
Another neck pours blood,
A wife mourns her husband,
Clutching her babies,
Not even old enough
To remember their father,
Now gone.
While fathers and mothers
Wait to hear news
Of which children are dead,
Hiding under their desks
From a school shooter
Aiming for their necks—
No Kevlar backpacks
Will bring them rest,
When they bury
Their babies.
A forlorn tale,
A sinful, destructive story,
As old as Cain and Abel,
As common as a Tuesday
In America.
Yet who has a real solution?
What action can accompany
Our prayers?
I grieve for a country
That has lost her way.
Has lost sight of The Way,
Rejects the Light and the Truth,
And keeps digging graves
While hate is poured out
From hyperbolic pundits
On the nightly news.
Oh they clamor for change
But desire only the same
Cycle of clicks,
The same padding
Of money in the bank.
It’s maddening how
They keep pointing fingers
Right and left—
Oh, how great the chasm
That lies between—
But who will speak
For our bleeding necks?
Who can fix this brokenness?
Jesus help us,
Our refuge, our strength!
Draw near to us,
Man of Sorrows,
Mender of broken hearts.
We are desperate for You.
Amen.
-Anna-
Well said, Anna.
Amen