WHEN

17 Sep

β€œBut Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.” Luke 18:16-17 KJV

 

πŸ’–

The Lord keeps showing me, over and over,

images of the little child that rests inside each angry man.

πŸ’–

The baby who first discovered his fingers and toes,

or laughed with glee upon his first sighting of a butterfly.

πŸ’–

The little boy who wiggled through his first haircut,

he was so proud.

πŸ’–

The little boy who brought home weed-flowers

for his mom to put in a vase.

πŸ’–

The cut-out crooked hearts

with β€œI love you, daddy” scribbled across.

πŸ’–

The little boy who wanted to be a policeman,

a fireman or the President.

πŸ’–

The little boy who learned to ride a bike

and could almost keep up with dad.

πŸ’–

The little boy who chewed wild grass

and dreamt of flying a rocket to the moon.

πŸ’–

The little boy who made a 100% on his spelling test,

but couldn’t quite figure out math.

πŸ’–

When did he turn into an angry young man,

bitter, distant and lost.

πŸ’–

When did friends become more precious than family,

no matter when, no matter where.

πŸ’–

When did Christmas cookies turn to alcohol,

Mother Goose to pornography.

πŸ’–

When did alcohol turn to drugs;

to live for, to kill for, to die for.

πŸ’–

When did skateboards turn to drive-by shootings,

picnics to funerals, love to hate.

πŸ’–

When did he become an angry young man,

falling deeper and deeper into sin, into death, into Hell.

πŸ’–

If you look close enough you can see that little boy,

through the dazed eyes of drugs.

πŸ’–

If you listen carefully you can hear that little boy crying out for help,

for peace, for love.

πŸ’–

If you hug him long enough you will feel the shield and barriers fall away

– long enough for him to know someone cares.

πŸ’–

And if you walk with him long enough you can guide him along the path

to find that little boy again.

πŸ’–

 

 

Written 3/21/95

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