Lament is a gift. A place where we find sweet relief in tears. When our tears subside we have that brief moment of looking up. We take a breath in that holy place, where our trust is renewed in Him once again.
A Song of Sorrow
I opened my eyes, I saw.
I cannot, I will not, unsee.
I see them…
Skin over small bones,
as parents, watch in helpless horror.
Women bleeding on a bales of hay,
believing their blood is a curse.
The persecuted, bound and tortured,
their lives taken, while silence reigns.
Bodies of babes, washed up on shores,
sand clings to fingers, that once circled a mother’s.
I turn my eyes away, I look up.
I cry to God and heaven,
as my song of sorrow soars.
I feel the light on my face,
and the darkness at my back.
In the stillness he is near.
In the stillness I trust.
In the stillness I look down.
There, I see my hands, my feet.
