Purchased Pic by: 1912_01Sakura blossom branch
Haiku by RL Brown
life’s brief moments
full of 
                s . . .
  we mourn.
In memory of 
Robb Elementary school, 
Uvalde, Texas
our tears 
of sadness flow
our hearts hurt 
for the families, friends, 
and the community.

I pray that seeds of bitterness
not take root.
I pray for sweet memories to heal a broken heart,
as God mends the weeping soul.
I pray that people not use
this tragedy to promote a political agenda.

How can kindness be interject to rip through the meanness of one's heart? Did he not hear one word of kindness or see a kind act? How can pure selfishness overwhelm the mind to cloud out reason and justice to move one so far from humanity?

Is the media, music, and video games so vapid? Where does one find value or worth in this world?
I know Jesus is that answer but did he ever hear the truth?
These students celebrated a new beginning as they received awards for the last days in one grade and advancing to the next. Their flower was shaken (taken) from them. Healing a broken heart takes time. I pray for God's hedge of protection around each family as they try to grasp what has happened. I pray for good men and women to take a stand and be the bulwark God designed them to be. We need men to be the leaders in their families and women to support and respect their leadership. Long before God established the church, he created the family. The family is the basic unit of our society. I pray we heal our families. I pray for families to return to the church for moral guidance. I pray for families to be rooted in God's truth for the healing of our nation. 

2Chroniciles 7:14 
If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.

4 thoughts on “Heal

  1. aschmeisser

    The toys sit sad, unheeded,
    dust settles on the bed.
    The baseball glove’s not needed,
    because it’s owner’s dead.
    No running feet at sunrise,
    no cast-off shoes that did annoy,
    no spelling-contest second prize,
    for we have lost our boy.
    And maybe if we could return
    for a moment to those golden days,
    we’d weep and in our weeping learn
    that we should have given highest praise
    for the life that shone so bright,
    that happy chaos gone to night.

    Liked by 1 person


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