I held hope in my arms clutch tightly to my breast
Filled with wonder and joy
hope reached for a future dreamed by me.
Hopes finger curled around mine as we dreamed together
of all that hope could be
Filled with endless potential hope is now held close to me.
Hope has now left my arms and struggles to stand upright
holding all of our dreams secure and tight.
Hope now stands on its own and with endless dreams and limitless goals.
Strong and Resilient
Reaching trusting and now almost realized
Hope now snatched away by hate and prejudice
Its reach completely out of grasp
Behind prison bars hope has been locked.
In city streets hope has been shot
Red runs the blood of hope
once securely held in my arms
now lying in the streets hope is dead
Its joy and wonder now resides in heavenly rest.
I hold hope in my arms clutched tightly to my breast.
This is a special edition of She Speaks Encouragement in honor of the life of a young man brutally shot and killed in Ferguson, Missourii.
It was pressed upon my heart to speak to the hearts of Mothers and Fathers, Sisters and Brothers that share in the loss of a loved one to senseless violence.
I could not help but think of another Mother that held in her
arms the body of her son, his innocent blood shed on a cross at
Calvary. Although it had been reveal through the prophet
“34 Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This
child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, 35 so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”
Nothing could prepare them for the unrelenting sorrow they would face. Mary and Joseph could not begin to comprehend the pain and sorrow they would face as they watched their son dying. The sword that pierced the body of their son,Jesus the Christ, the son of the living God, pierced their own soul.It is through his death that many shall live. It is only through his death that we have the remission of sin and the right to eternal salvation. Will you use this time to accept his precious gift?
I know there is no way to ever lessen the pain of this family but may God who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly, above all that we can ask or think, bring you comfort and peace that surpasses all understanding. I dedicate this poem to the Mothers and Fathers of Treyvon Martin and Michael Brown and all of the Treyvon’s and Michael’s we do not hear about.
Prayer: Father comfort the heart of those that know the pain of loss. Wrap them in your love.