Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Sight of an Empty Shoe

Standing outside the murder mill, another day to mourn,
Pleading with men and women, not to murder their children unborn.
Car after car after car, into the parking lot they drive,
Women bent on killing, the babies they carry alive.

Pleading with a woman to realize, her child's not a clump of cells,
She feigns stabbing herself in the stomach, and with profanity she yells.
At times all I can do is drop my head, praying God will hear,
"Please don't let her kill her baby, a life you hold so dear."

And as I looked toward the ground, wondering what God would do,
I found my eyes transfixed, on the sight of an empty shoe.
The shoe so small in size, to a little child it must belong,
Sitting at the edge of the parking lot, where children are murdered all day long.

For some time I stood and stared, at the sight of the empty shoe,
I wondered how it got there, I found it hard to move.
Could this have been God's answer, to the prayer that I had uttered?
Was it somehow a reminder, of all the times I had muttered?

Was it a reminder of times I had complained, complained to myself and others,
Why so many children had to die, at the requests of their mothers?
Or a reminder of those times, when I complained of aching feet,
of seemingly indifferent Christians, or the sun's oppressive heat?

I shook my head at my sinfulness, for moods in shades of blue,
I sought the Lord's forgiveness, as I stared at that empty shoe.
I thought of those rare instances, when a life the Lord did save,
By His grace and mercy, another day of life He gave.

While I did think of the children murdered, at this place in Mission Hills,
The sight of that empty shoe, gave me hope--it gave me chills.
For the sight of that empty shoe, meant a child who lived to birth,
A child who was not murdered, a killer's paycheck her only worth.

The thought of a child in a playground, one foot shod in sock or bare,
Put a smile on my face as I realized, how important it was to care--
To keep fighting for every unborn baby, carried into this murder mill,
To plead with every mother, and every father not to kill.

And if the Lord is willing, He will save a life or two,
He will save a baby boy or girl, who may one day fill such a shoe.
I felt a smile form on my face, my strength and zeal renewed,
As I looked at the memorable sight, the sight of an empty shoe.

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