Where Are You Lord?
How can I
pray
while my
heart cries,
“You killed
my son”?
What can I
say?
How look
for comfort
from the
One
Who willed
it done?
Omnipotent,
He could
have
stopped it
if He
would;
my son...
my son...
numb with
grief,
my soul is
one vast “why?”
his life
was all too brief;
he was so
young
to die.
Where were
You,
Lord?
Where were
You?
Gently He
replied,
“Just where
I was
dearly,
dearly loved,
when Mine
was
crucified.”
-
Ruth
Bell Graham
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