Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The Little Boy

He is at home.
He is here.
He is everywhere,
Or so I fear.

The angry face,
The hurtful voice.
I'd run away,
Had I my choice.

But he hurts more.
He feels alone.
He needs you, Lord,
A solid stone.

In a life of pain,
A life of change,
He needs me Lord,
It seems so strange.

He appears so strong,
I feel so weak.
Use me, O Lord,
Help me to speak,

To that hurting boy,
That's deep inside.
Break down the walls,
So that he can't hide.

My heart is yours.
Use all of me,
To reach out to him,
And help him to see,

That you're the Father,
He's never had.
You, Lord, alone,
Are the world's best Dad!


This popped into my head as we were singing in church tonight. I have met a lot of fatherless little boys in my lifetime, and right now there are two in particular that have been on my mind and in my prayers. This poem is for them.

1 comment:

  1. Oh my goodness. This poem was absolutely lovely.

    Such an amazing talent you have. Any attempt that I make at poetry always comes out as bad limericks.

    Wonderful post!



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