I see a face
within the smoke
as bombs explode.
This is no joke.
It’s ominous.
There’s loss of life.
All war is living hell!
May God who looks down
on this plight
cause saner minds
to end this fight.
And may the One
who rules our world
protect the innocent.
(I saw this face in the explosive sky while watching news coverage of the war in Tehran on CNN.)
Allegiance pledged.
One last salute
while flanked by mourners dressed in suits.
My mother wept for her best friend
as I grieved for my dad.
This one who heard his Uncle call
and promised he would give his all
would fight to keep our nation free
and made his Uncle proud.
So on this day Old Glory waves
at football fields or grassy graves,
I’ll honor veterans everywhere
with thanks and prayers for peace.
If you listen, you can hear it.
Agonizing screams.
Haunting groans.
Heaving sighs.
And the whys are easily answered.
Once again Rachel is weeping for her children.
As in ancient times,
she refuses to be comforted.
And for good reason.
Her heart is broken in a million shards of sorrow.
There is brutality and bloodshed.
There is pain and suffering.
There are unprecedented atrocities.
The stench of death dominates the domain of Jacob’s descendants.
In the “City of Peace,”
there is no peace.
In a nation that once flowed with milk and honey,
there is bitterness and hate.
The Promised Land is a region of broken promises.
Sibling rivalry is taking a deadly ungodly toll.
Yes, the sons of Abraham are fighting each other as before.
And this dysfunctional family will likely destroy itself
unless peace-loving people
look for creative ways to broker a settlement.
For a place to which all of Abraham’s progeny lay claim,
let us pray.
Let us pray for the peace of Jerusalem.
They cradled Christ.
They held him close
while fleeing for their lives.
By holding Him
they clung with faith to cope.
By saving what
was priceless art
they couldn’t help but feel
the arms of One
who offers saving hope.
Like Mary clutched her lifeless son
when he was just a babe,
they carried Jesus gently out of sight.
And as they placed Him in a tomb
away from tombs that fly,
I’m hoping that they glimpsed an inner light.
I’m hoping that they grasped the truth
of which the Scriptures speak.
That Jesus is at home when taken in.
That those who honor Him who died
and worship Him as Lord,
will find their worth beyond this world of sin.
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You crane your neck to glimpse your flag
while fleeing for the border.
You shield your kids while on the run
from Molotovs and mortars.
You grieve for what you’ve left behind.
You don’t know what’s awaits you.
May God protect you as you flee
from one who hunts and hates you.
Oh precious mother on the run
we stand with you while praying
that God will guide and open doors
to where you’ll next be staying.
My Rhymes and Reasons 