©LF Haynie, March 31, 2018
In the wake of that Friday,
I sit, stunned.
"Is this the end? How can it be?" I cried.
"Such a person, so loving, so wise, so good and kind!"
I whispered, “Why, God, o why?”
But God was silent.
“He was our Messiah, God!
How did You--
How could you--
Let this happen?"
God isn’t answering me--
Not today, at any rate.
Tomorrow might be a different story
He always answers--
From His own (impeccable) sense of timing--
He does answer us, our God.
But, like a parent who refuses to feed the hungry child
Because the chicken is still raw--
Like the parent who won’t give his child
Sewage to drink,
He waits.
He waits for the chicken to be cooked,
The water to be boiled and made clean,
The person to be ready--
Ready for what?
Well, I don’t know!
Ready for a miracle,
Ready to see God’s hand in that miracle,
Ready to turn to Him.
The perfect place,
The perfect timing,
The perfect person to be there waiting.
But for now,
Like the hungry child,
I whine and cry.