My heart is broken, Jesus, and breaking.
My tears flow from somewhere within,
I know not,
They bubble up like a pent up stream,
Long damned; now breached.
It hurts, I hurt as David of old.”,
“My God, my God Why?”
Am I forsaken?
Is it my sin you are angry with?
Or another?
Three times Lord I have asked!
Three times I have waited to see.
Three times I have pleaded.
Am I forsaken?
Is it my sin you are angry with?
Or another?
I wait.
I wait at the break of each new day.
I wait, hands extended ever
heavenward.
I wait.
You listen, Lord.
You wait, not like Jobs friends of old,
Their wisdom from The Book.
Yet, having not the wisdom of The Book.
And what is that wisdom?
The Creator is.
The Creator will be.
The Creator-will yet fill the earth,
and All Things will be well,
Things great and small.
The Spirit hears,
The Spirit will surround my tears
and the Tears of my family,
Th Spirit inhabits the groans,
The longings of my heart,
so broken beyond words;
Yet known to The Three who are One.
Jesus heals.
Jesus will heal my whole family.
Jesus will rise anew from within
this valley of death and prepare us
a table of fellowship too long forgotten;
anointing our heads with oil,
So that even our enemies know—
We are chosen, not abandoned.
Lord, I see it now.
Not forsaken, but embraced, forgiven.
Always in Jesus ‘The Yes’ of God I see.
You need not hear our repenting cries.
It is we who need to repent so that our tears
wash away every Stony heart.
I am done throwing stones at another
Turn the soil of my heart Lord;
not once, but in waves of three,
Father, Son, Spirit, wash over me.
Amen.
1) A Poem dedicated to the Tautu—Jantoc—Correa Family, at this time of desperate need.
2) A prayer taken from Job, Psalm 139 and the writings of Ann Jillian of Norwich, thirteenth century.
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