You number my wanderings;
put my tears in Your bottle;
are they not in Your book?
(Psalm 56:8)
Across our land, like rivers, our tears flow,
As crime and our fears continue to grow.
As flames
of violence are fanned,
How much heartache can we withstand?
This senseless loss of life and limb,
Challenging our life’s paradigm.
We have cheapened the value of life,
Increasing our heartaches and our strife.
Police running amok, they are disrespected.
Communities react, feeling unprotected.
Politicians overstretched, trying to bridge
the gaps,
As snipers take positions, setting their
deadly traps.
Lives dashed on all the rocky cliffs of
violence,
Of God’s chastisement and Grace give us cognizance.
Politics, policing, protests and strong
hands,
Can’t heal the fissures exposed across our
land.
As crime in some areas has been throttled-up,
There’ll be more tears for God’s love to bottle-up.
One day…
At His bottle, we’ll be able to take a look,
And also see how all our tears have stained
His book.
Moms, dads, sisters, brothers, children and
friends,
Are grief struck from this violence that
rends.
Through it all, let us remember that God’s
chastisement,
Is followed by Grace, so we can do… more excellent.
Crime and violence come from seeds, this you
well know,
Seeds we either planted or allowed, then to
grow.
God simply allows what we allow, then
we forget the roots.
By Grace, may we find better seeds for crops
of...
much better fruits.
much better fruits.
