Good Friday.
The Innocent One, condemned, sentenced to death.
The Disciples, scattered, scared.
Darkness over the earth...
But also, the Curtain torn!
The powers of evil, exhausted!
In January, over the course of just a few days, I found out that:
~A friend's father had been in terrible car accident.
~A relative lost their baby, in utero.
~A friend shared about visiting someone in the hospital.
At any rate, I wrote this poem on January 11th, the day before Port-au-Prince, Haiti was hit by a terrible earthquake.
I thought it would be appropriate to share acrostic poem on this Good Friday.
"Wait"
What do we do, when
Every day brings pain and suffering?
What do we do, when
All people mourn,
Infants are stillborns, and
The norm is disease and death?
Please, dry our tears, and redeem
All
Things!
In the end, God will make
Everything
New!
Today, we grieve, hope and say:
Lord Jesus, come!
Yes, come quickly, we pray!