This is written because I cannot hold it within myself any longer; because this is my one greatest sorrow, when I see those who live without life. I have ceased to think of the term poor as denoting physical weakness or financial insecurity. Rather it describes those who have not realized or accepted the greatest treasure ever given to mankind: Jesus Christ. And so I call them poor ones, not out of disdain, but from true compassion, and a hope that one day, they will be as undeservedly rich as I.
So much grace, and such compassion
Floods my heart, fills my mind
For those poor ones imprisoned –
Chained and blind.
Fettered by their own ambitious ego,
Surrounded by the walls of sin;
Darkness, fear, uncertainty,
It makes me tremble to wonder
What such would be like;
I cannot even say such a life,
For so to live is truly but
How can I then hold back?
How can I not be bold?
For when I look into a stranger’s eyes
I have begun to see
A soul that waits– longer and longer!
Till with its last breath it finally understands,
That it is destined for eternity
And knows not where
So much now lies within my sight
Which these poor ones cannot see.
A battle-ground, a raging fight,
And prisoners, afraid to
A fierceness rises in my soul,
A strength backed by courage,
That these broken jars be made whole
And filled anew with
I long that they might taste this water,
This Life that fills my outstretched hands!
All else is emptiness and confusion,
But when all the world crumbles, this Life
Almighty God, My Father. Make this my mission,
The centerpiece of my living:
To give the gift I have been given
And to never give up
Teach me how to pray for these
Who know not how their Father grieves,
Nor how unfathomable the Love
Waiting to enfold them.
If only they would lift up their hearts