The End of the Cradle Christians?


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Waging Wisdom

angel of grief

My eyes are spent with tears,
My heart is in tumult,
My being melts away
Over the ruin of my poor people.

As babes and sucklings languish
In the squares of the city,
They keep asking their mothers,
“Where is bread and wine?”
As they languish like battle-wounded
In the squares of the town,
As their life runs out
In their mothers’ bosoms.

Remember, O Lord, what has befallen us;
Behold, and see our disgrace!
Our heritage has passed to aliens,
Our homes to strangers.

We have become orphans, fatherless;
Our mothers are like widows.
We are hotly pursued;
Exhausted, we are given no rest.

I think it’s pretty difficult, probably impossible, for most Westerners reading this to feel the human anguish and hopelessness being uttered in this cry from the book of Lamentations. I know I can’t. I have never been driven from my home to Who Knows Where…

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