Letting Go

This is a hard one Father
She’s further away now than ever.
Where gone that little girl
In delicate spring dress
Skipping away with us
From the Meeting Hall?

The friends came
Of dubious influence
With smirks and smeared
The curfews ignored
The substances tried.

The studies neglected
And then abandoned.
Her Mother’s tears
At the lessening calls
A Big New City tried
A daughter lost to us.

And now we shiver
Thinking of her common day.
The mistakes, the men
The miasma and muck
Of it all, Lord.
She’s out of reach.

But your arms
Are big, Father
You see, and operate
Through innumerable agents.
Undertake now we pray
Our daughter on your altar.

Note: This one was provoked by a video I saw recently featuring the testimony of just such a runaway woman who sank lower and lower until she came to an apartment in New York City just down the street from the Brooklyn Tabernacle. The story of her recovery relates one revelation and healing after another. The prayers of devastated parents were answered.


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