The Prophets Lament in the Days of Comfort and Fear

A poem from a writer who cares not to be read

It is not in what is sent,

but in his relent.

Not so much the judgment He sends

but the suffering He suspends.

Not so much the affliction if He creates it,

but His mercy which interceding abates it.

Not every plague comes from God, not most.

But every affliction that comes to be

is hoped by God in mercy to turn me.

When in time my turning He does not see,

such afflictions uninterrupted shall redress me.

If with afflictions come no warning,

I am left unchanged in the morning.

No resignation to amendment of life cemented

if the prophets warning of judgment relented.

When the possibility of judgment is forestalled,

the need for repentance has no force when called.

For if God does not judge to turn us from sin

the room for repentance becomes very thin.

While COVID 19 is not of God’s making,

to take it as warning is warning worth taking.

If then no change comes in amending our ways,

what unchecked reprisal awaits in those days.

For to argue what plight is designed or permitted,

becomes a moot point when in suffering we’re sifted.

To comfort a soul in the midst of her Lent,

is to unweight the burden in the call to repent.

For Lent is come calling for humble reflections,

and in light of that Day redress imperfections.

If judgment is what you deny in the moment

that Day will reveal with joy or in torment.

It matters not what intention you attribute

it is for sure that His Judgment Day will retribute.

Crying out in the Wilderness. That is left field. The outside perspective. Not pedestrian. Eccentric. Mirabile Dictu.

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