By Evangelist Linda J
My tears are liquid words that only he hears and can understand.
What ails her? …they might think
But only he knows.
I cry not only for myself, but for the world.
Sometimes I can’t cry, I’m stuck , My heart has become, hard impenetrable.
But press, I must.
For, it is appointed unto man once to die and after death the judgement.
There is much at stake
For I have seen the place of judgement – that forever place (See minister5writes.com),
I can never forget the finality,
the dread of that place
The reality that it’s too late.
When I can’t articulate
My tears fall and I cry.
My bowels, My bowels.
It’s the cry of a starving, premature baby – (have you ever seen?) only the shape of the skull and the shape of the mouth telling the story – telling the story ….but there is no sound …
There are liquid words and a silent arching mouth, like Hannah, like Rahab weeping for her son, her child, because He was not
It’s the cry of desperation, of anguish. It’s the ardent cry for a seed, a people a promise, a community, a nation – a world without fear
A life denied, stunted, about to be cut off in its prime…
When I know and see the precipice we stand on – the fine -tooth jagged knife edge, between life and death.
I tell my brother, my sister but he/they won’t/can’t hear
Gone too far, Gone too far
Calcified, calcification, diseased, dying, died – dead.
I can only howl inside, silent terror
My heart aches.
I see the lost, the sick, the despairing, the neglectful all around me, all around me
A gambol (sic) of a life – running running running… going no where -a wasted opportunity
When will your hand move?
When will you show?
In the midst of life we are in death
But I believe there is hope .
His heart breaks.
His hand does move
In the silence of our cries
By Linda J
Unfinished but In a time of sadness