Return To Title List
There is a moral dilemma, and it must be as old as man,
Why innocents are punished? How could this be God's plan?
We read the lines in the book of Job, and the words-- our senses rout;
We live here at GOD'S pleasure-- understandings-- much in doubt.
It's hard to believe that we're but a test, in some much greater scheme,
And with all of our worldly wisdom, we've no knowledge of its theme.
The loves that I come in contact with, (and their impacts on my soul);
Be they parent, wife or children dear-- each worked to make me whole.
I've lived and learned and thought I knew, how best to help my Lord,
And smoothly move to do those things that must fulfill HIS word.
But often times I came to find that HIS vision wasn't mine.
And what I'd planned were marks in sand-- somehow off the line.
None of us is immortal, and each life is just a loan,
We think we'll know the payback time-- somehow we will be shown;
That there must be an order in it; and it should reflect the span;
Those who've lived the longest will surely lead their clan.
All issues will be settled, when it's time to say goodbye,
Grieving will be healing for the one who is yet to die.
And maybe this is hubris, and I'll really never know,
And it's only my translation, as events around me flow.
Ecclesiastes, with its philosophy so bleak,
Doesn't really give much solace to the answers that I seek,
But it does give some perspective to the questions of the age,
There is a time for birth and death-- and it does no good to rage.
Allowed to play the hand I'm dealt, is about all I can do,
I don't know where the trump cards are-- and I have mighty few.
I continue to trust that the dealer-- will always play me straight,
And I hope I never renege on HIM-- as HE reveals my fate.
I can also pray my gamesmanship-- may seldom HIM displease,
But when I know I've let HIM down-- He'll hear me-- on my knees.