Emerging Courageous Online Magazine - Poetry
My Final Call By Brenda Conley
I listened to the words I said
Of kindness there was none
The damage I spoke in my hatefulness
Had already been said and done
And there I gazed upon the tears
Of a child, I loved and held so dear
And as I went to take his hand
He took a step back… in his fear
There I bowed upon my knees
As I held my arms out in my plea
There the tears filled my shameful eyes
Saying, “My child forgive me, would you… please?”
Sometimes the things in our past
Can haunt us if we let it
Like demons in the night
Grabbing onto our very souls
With painful claws tightly sinking in
To never release their hold
Or we can seek the Lord above
In His guidance day and night
Looking away from the darkness of pain
Seeking the healing light
Like child abuse some of us have suffered
Maybe from a friend or a family member
It is our constant reminder, as our hearts will never forget
But, we can forgive… the abuser
Seeking the Lord, to heal our pain
And when we follow that righteous path
We pray for the abusers name
In that moment… I vowed to God
No hatefulness would ever come from my lips
Nor the pain I once knew as a child
To be held in the anger of my own fisted grip
There have been many times I’ve heard the phrase,
“The abused usually become the abuser”
I made a choice in that first second
To either be a winner or a pitiful loser
I myself have never hit my child
In the moment of angers fury
Nor have I spoken ever again
With hateful spite upon my tongue
I pray that when God calls my name
I will not need to hold my head in shame
And there I pray… that He will say
“My Child I’m proud, well done!”
For when it comes down to… My Final Call
As He reads my deeds in His book
I’ll stand before my God
Watching the expressions on His face
Will I see great sadness?
Or even a tear upon His eye?
I pray it is joy and love that my humble eyes will see
For when He gets down to the bottom line…
God will be my Judge and Jury
Brenda Conley © 2003 [email protected]
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