Where Are You Lord?

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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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