Photo of Polish volunteers assisting Ukrainians – February 2022.
When the twilights lengthening shadows have become piercing and unforgiving darkness – where do we go now Lord?
When the songs of the mother and child turn from rock-a-bye baby lullaby to grievous lament – where do we go now Lord?
When the prayers of the young healthy man feel singularly small, lost and hapless in the dearth and wake of such horror – where do we go now Lord?
Where do we go now Lord?
When the offer of freedom is beyond the boundaries, cultures and languages we know…
When safety appears as instability and uncertainty amidst a thousand unknowns…
When the storms of life are nothing compared to the avalanche of hatred propelled by some unseen and unwelcome guest at our leaning, toppling table… when the table is bare, no more, and all hope has left the room…
Where do we go now Lord?
Yet you answer we have no need to go, only to come.
To come to you dear sweet and honest Lord; to find you in the deafening darkness, the ice-cold stillness, the shut-out and incapacitated, the ungracious strangers stare. To seek you in the hidden prayerful, careful, place. To come and know you as our friend and Lord amidst such pain is the extreme answer of the suffering servant. The suffering servant who did not suffer for fun, for free or for no worthy outcome – but suffered for the purposes of bringing a taste of sweet heaven to us now, of being comfort in our darkest moments, and strength in our waning and weakness, of being a wholly good and perfect presence in the face of all calamity.
Where do we go now Lord?
‘Come unto me’ is Your whispered reply.
We pray deeply for all those affected so horribly by the War on Ukraine.
Lorraine