Who are we that we should weave the wonder of paint, music, ink?
While others suffer pain and grieve for those who pass beyond Time’s brink
We tremble with the want of wishing ink could write their hurt away
But words are all we have to offer mingling with the thoughts we pray
Who are we, to strike the timbrel while another smites his breast
To the bugle-call of Taps before his precious child is laid rest?
We too are warriors bearing sorrows, some in flesh and some in heart
Bleeding ink and song and picture as we strive to do our part
We may not unbind the burden but beneath our bleeding thought
We beg God to heal the broken and to bless our humble jot
God is love; in spite of Eden’s aftermath He does not fail
As He pours grace and forgiveness from hope’s full and faithful grail
Who are we; but wounded warriors limping with our fellowmen
As we seek to cheer and comfort with whispers from brush and pen
© Janet Martin
When I think of the grief and suffering around me it's hard to write and I've heard others who write and sing/compose, paint, say the same thing but we press on trying to serve, trusting God to heal! As we breathe the prayers in our hearts into song, poetry, painting we trust God to add the beauty!