Questions abound as we watch the news and read reports that make us keep asking how and why, in a futile attempt to try to make sense of what seems senseless and beyond our ken.
Such questioning thoughts have crowded into my mind, especially in recent months when world events have left me reeling for answers to questions I barely know how to express. Because not everything in life is cut and dried and man’s inhumanity to man is beyond understanding at times.
So I ponder and pray, particularly where injury, and worse, to children is involved. My heart breaks, tears flow and words follow close behind, as in the lament poem below.
Questions without answers
How do you not let your soul grow old, as
calloused as the soles of your feet, when you’re
forced to walk as one displaced, a person
despised for ethnicity and race, made
homeless, rootless, orphaned and lost
in so many ways?
How do you maintain hope when your throat
is always parched and your heart aches for
news of your beloved ones, feared dead, while
you trudge on seeking shelter, trying hard to
assuage the pain of dread?
How do you carry the weight of the world on
your stooped forward, wing-like shoulders, when you
can barely sustain the weight of unshed tears and
the loss you’ve endured, as well as the meagre
belongings you have procured?
How do you cope when there is not enough food to be
found to help a body survive, drink is a desperate word
and your children, who have learnt not to cry
or ask for it, scratch around with stones and sticks
for lack of anything else to amuse themselves with
while their tummies hurt?
How do you keep on believing sufficient help is at hand
and endure the humility of need and receiving, when
you have nothing to offer in return, apart from grateful
thanks, relief and your constant broken state, as you
become yet another faceless, nameless statistic
on TV and newspaper page?
The human spirit has to endure many things as it exists
in this world, but few are called to become uprooted like this
and turned into homeless, displaced souls, whose hope is worn
so low, stretched wafer-thin, whose mind and heart are heavier
than we could truly know or bear
©joylenton
Let’s pray…
Loving Father,
Although we know that nothing is hidden from your awareness, so much distresses our souls as we witness children, weak and vulnerable ones suffering at the hands of others.
Help us to see these atrocities as evidence of sin being unleashed in hearts that are far from you. Enable us to understand that evil unchecked is full of malice and pain.
Teach us to rest in your perfect peace, dwell close to your heart and seek to release our anxiety and fear, while being your love and compassion in action wherever we can.
May we be voices in the wilderness pointing to Jesus. May we believe that all sin meets its match in Him and all questions meet their answer there too. May we trust your Word and promises to be a safe haven for the lost, hurting and dispossessed.
Amen
**Friends, though we might feel helpless, we can raise awareness, pray, give practical aid or donate to help displaced refugees, like my favourite charity does**
Poetry Joy 
Dear Joy,
What a heart-stirring and profound set of questions you have raised here. And all while in the setting of a beautiful poem–wow. Thank you for sharing thoughts that remind me to pay attention to the real events of this age, not the glaring reports of the media set to keep us tuned in, but the hurting souls who have been wounded beyond what is bearable. May I lift them in my prayers, and not forget my brothers and sisters who are in chains. Love and Hugs to you my dear sister in Christ. Xoxo
Dear Bettie, these words just poured out of me in response to reading real life accounts of those afflicted like this, though they’re also representative of so many others. We can become oversaturated by news and largely immune to what we see or read. But sometimes God stirs our hearts to truly empathise, place ourselves in the shoes of those who are suffering and whose desperate plight breaks His heart. To have even a tiny insight glimpse into how God feels about the lonely, lost, hurting and displaced is enough to make us cry and cry out to Him in prayer, as it draws deeper understanding and compassion from our forgetful souls. Yes, we do need to remember to keep on caring, keep on praying and not forget our wounded, afflicted brothers and sisters in Christ, whether far away or closer to home. Because we still hear the rattle of our own chains sometimes, reminding us of areas of our lives where we’re not yet as fully free as we want to be. Love and hugs to you too! xoxo 💜
Beautiful. I think so often we forget to allow ourselves to lament. Lamenting is healing. Im right there with ya sister!
Indeed we do, Tara. And yes, it can be cathartic as well as healing on the inside. Our questions and hurts are no deterrent to God. He simply shows Himself powerful on our behalf and wraps us round with His arms of love. Thank you for getting the gist of what I was seeking to convey here. Bless you, my friend! xo 💜
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