broken.

she lay motionless on the mat

her skin ashen, and her bones protruding in places they shouldn’t

her feet were warm, and her legs were like those of a small child

but she is no longer a small child

and as I sat near her and brushed the hair back from her face,

I wondered how she got here

I cried

not only because she was so very ill

but for all the time she had been overlooked

for the life she lived without a mother;

and without anyone to fill that missing space

much of her life had been filled with pain and illness

it was too much for my mind to take in

I cried because she isn't the only one

for the children in this country
and mine, too

who no one looks after

who are alone and seemingly unloved

my heart broke open even further that night

we live in a world where we can ‘create’ our children with medicine and science

beautifully and wonderfully made

but this daughter lays dying on a mat

without anyone to hold her and kiss her face

and my mind keeps shouting,

‘what about the ones who are already here?’

and as I look at this one,

my broken heart is moved to act

Oh Lord, your heart breaks

and mine is breaking too

and tears still fall

because it hurts

and because I don’t understand…

but I sense You so clearly right there in our midst

as we draw near to the dying, the broken, and the alone

I know you are waiting with them

and I am waiting, too

as Your love leads me forward.