I wrote this poem in the year 2000. At the time, my daughter was far away from God and hated me. She left home at 15, and did many silly things. I suffered a lot because of the things she did. I would pray and pray. I even sometimes hired a prayer room at a retreat to pray for her.
Now it is 2005 and she is a worship leader in a youth group in a big church. God is using her, and I take comfort he knew my heart then, and does now as my younger child wanders in the wilderness. God reminded me of this poem this morning. I know there are others who have the same heart cry on faithwriters, or who will identify. It was written after a friend shared her own suffering - she said to me:
"Our children have turned against us, is it the end times?' Mark 11:11-13,
Mothers of Prodigals
Yesterday, my friend said,
Our children have turned against us.
back to poems
This is the end times
So many times seem to have endings
And then they begin again
Is this the end time?
Lord, we ask the question,
Why our children
We tried so hard?
Is it the end of time?
The forbidden question
No man may know
The day or the hour
The end of time must come at some time
All time ends
Hold us Lord
We are mothers in the wilderness
Crying for our children
As they wander, prodigal
We are mothers in the wildreness
Holding empty robes
Pots in the kitchen
Full of the food of our love
The bottle of our tears is overflowing
Pools of water form in our wilderness
Our hearts melt with the fire of longing
Our sacrifices feel too small
Widows mites
Will have to be your insence
And our prayer, Lord.
Is if this is the end times,
Let there be another day.
THE ANSWER OF THE LORD TO ALL OF US WHO CRY FOR OUR CHILDREN -
