"Cry of the Urban Poor" by Viv Grigg - continued

I really needed this today.  I visited four houses of women with HIV.  Grace has only days to live...  her eight year old daughter sat beside me just looking at her suffering mother.  It was hard to know what to say...

"March!" He said,
so I marched
to the beat of a different drum,
walking a long obedience,
hearing the Beloved One
as He called, "To the poor! Quickly!
a glass of juice,
a touch on the head of this child,
a laugh with this prostitute,
as sadly she tells of her trade
and her desire to walk away.

"And the faces, dead -yet alive-,
the children, all spindly and pain,
cleanse them, heal them, raise them,"
His cry came again and again.

"With what?" I screamed back,
across the noise of the fight,
the lonely hours wrestling
not with prayer (so spiritual)
but with administration,
and letters to workers,
all night,
"My spirit is dry -
no laborers here -
and so poorly do I know You,
Your power seems so far away.
What can I give?  How can I pray...?"

continued from yesterday...

Then He came, Oh! He came,
surrounding with love,
away with the pain,
His peace flooding over my spirit,
my body enwrapped once again
in Him who sustains the universe.

I lifted my feet,
on that long obedience into Him,
who is found among the needy;
laid my hands
on the spindly bent legs of a hungry girl
and prayed, in His power, for her healing,
gave money to a blind man singing,
wept with my old drunkard unsaved.

And He came,
and I knew Him once again,
who is beyond thinking –
King of my heart,
Leader in battle,
Savior of megacities,
Lover of the migrant poor.

DO YOU KNOW HIM? Do you know his presence and peace that passes all understanding, as he comes again and again to overflow us with his love?


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