Lament for a Daughter

Sorrow of sorrows,

each moment passes and grief grows.

I sit in darkness alone.

I rock back and forth as my soul groans.

Here I find myself acquainted with grief.

Here I sit in darkness and disbelief.

Why did you take her so soon?

Why did death wrap her in its cocoon?

No one is safe from death.

It knocks incessantly with each breath.

Time is its friend —

As each tick and tock clicks on the clock,

each life grows closer and closer to its end.

Grief is an unwanted friend,

and this grief will stay till the end

because I live and my daughter dies.

Can the World really be redeemed from Satan’s lies?

Where do we go from here?

The way is full of twists and unclear.

You promise to wrap us in your wings,

and keep us from death’s stings.

But where is your promise now?

It seems as though death has taken its final bow.

My soul feels spent and wasted—

nothing left, nothing tasted.

I sit on the ground in misery

ready to be locked up in death’s penitentiary.

My grief is spent and drunk to it dregs.

My soul dries up and it begs —

“Give me relief!

Help my unbelief!”

Where are you, Lord?

Do I still trust the truths in your life giving sword?

Do you hear me? Do you even care?

Will you only sit and watch and stare?

I need you here, right by my side.

You tell me you love me, that I’m a part of your bride.

Why does it seems your blessings only flow to others—

people who call themselves my sisters and brothers?

Because those people claim your favor is wrapped up in earthly blessings—

that if you really love us, you give us great earthly things—

new car, new house

comfortable neighborhood, pretty spouse.

If God really loves you, he’ll give you influence,

people who admire you and a nice white picket fence.

But, I don’t have time for these games.

You see, my little girl died, and my life is burning up in flames.

Does that mean God doesn’t love me?

Does that mean I am no longer chosen and free?

As I sit in grief, my bones ache.

I feel wrapped up in death. Its bonds I can’t break.

I look up and see a light.

I see his face and to my delight

He has the key to my chains!

He unlocks them and cleans off all my guilty stains.

He calls me further up and further in,

Tells me I am not lost and alone in my sin.

He gently carries me away from my disbelief

because, like me, he is acquainted with grief.

For he knows and he sees.

He hears every groan from the trees

Even after it all, his promises still remain.

He is the one who wrote himself in and took the pain.

He wraps me in his unfailing love,

and clothes me in his righteousness from above.

He gently calls me under the shadow of his wings.

I watch as he takes all the arrows of death’s stings.

You see, goodness isn’t found in earthly things—

those only turn out to be anchors with strings

that tie your heart to this world and the things in it.

You will soon be building your walls brick by brick

until you find yourself sitting in your tower—

just like your ancestors who built Babel in their own power.

May God never give us up to the desires of our own flesh—

things that will waste away in one simple breath.

Fix our eyes on eternity.

May we long all the more for the kingdom and its key—

the place where crying will be no more

because you wash us with our tears that you’ve stored.

Because I lived and my daughter died,

my life on this earth will never be the same, even if I tried.

Now, I long for that Day all the more

when I find myself on eternity’s shore

standing in your presence with all those I love

finally dancing in the freedom given from Above.

To my dear sweet girl, I can’t wait to finally hold you,

to touch your face, and tell you I love you through and through.

Until then, I rest in the fact that you’ve been washed in our Father’s love,

that he’s adopted you finally and forever through his grace from Above.

Wait for me, sweet girl. I’m coming to find you,

and we will rest together where all the sad things are untrue.