I sat to entertain myself, O God.
I smiled as the movie rolled,
and the story flowed.
Then the cannon balls began to fly
and the children began to cry
and cinematic illusion blurred with harsh reality.
I imagined shells falling on Mariupol,
drone attacks in Yemen,
bullets tearing flesh in Tigray
and always children cry.
“And how are the children?”
asks the Masai people.
God, you know.
In places the children are well.
In places the children are strong.
In places the children are safe.
But you also know, O God,
that in places,
too, too many places,
the children cry in terror,
cry in pain,
cry as loved ones suffer and die.
cry from hunger.
The children are not well.
in any conflict,
in every conflict,
the children suffer.
O God, in the name of Jesus,
who bade the children come to him,
I pray for the children of
Mariupol,
Yemen,
Tigray.
I pray for the children
caught up in every conflict and any conflict.
I pray for the children who cry.
Protect the children, O God.
Hear their cries.
Watch over them.
Guide the nations of the world
to end conflicts
and establish the justice
that leads to wholeness and peace
in which children may thrive.
Guide me to discern my part
to support such efforts.
I pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen.
Along the Graybeard Trail 