Hurting and praying for the Schuurmans...
Oh God! this plow that pushes through time’s joy and sorrow sweeps
Was not designed for those who pine for that which Bygone keeps
Time’s horror, hurt and hunger renews Heaven’s hope each morn
As from this place of grief and grace a precious face is borne
And nothing we can do or say will return that which was
So, if we hear Salvation’s plea, pray we reply because
Who knows the ending of what begins as another day?
And who knows who, before come twilight, will be called away?
Oh wow! the plow we push forward leaves furrows full of Past
Death reminds us to live each day as if it was our last
…and we should always, only, ever use the time God grants
To make the best of life and love while we still have the chance
© Janet Martin