all who, in 2018,
will not be
with us at the Thanksgiving table
If we believe that death is a new beginning, not an end;
A comma, not a period;
A change to something better…
Why are we sitting on the side of the road in pain?
Why are we crying over the burnt bodies
In destroyed cars when we believe
Their pain was but momentary,
That they are now cradled in God’s arms?
Our faith in God is sorely tested
When the flames of destruction
Mutilate our lives.
When gunshots pierce not only the heart
But also the soul it seems no answers shout
From the abyss that yawns at our feet.
Why oh why we ask our God
Must so much violence and destruction
Visit our lives?
Why must it take those we dearly love:
Child, friend, neighbor, or stranger?
As flames lick the sky,
As bullets in another shooting
Pierce more bodies,
We know there are no answers.
Nothing spoken by human voice
Or written down in scripture
Can quell the agony of this moment.
The table, on Thanksgiving, will have empty seats.
Let us have strong enough faith
To see the Lord sitting in our midst,
Comforting us in our pain.
Why wouldn’t He? He loves us.
Leona M Seufert