Because sometimes there are no words…only lament…

O Lord, how long will the violence last? How many nations will rise up to kill other nations? The pain seems never ending. The groans too deep for words. Innocence stolen. Virtue slaughtered. Blood spills into the streets. It runs like a river at flood stage, fast moving and swift. How can you stand by and watch, O Lord? While your children swim in the flood and your enemies dance on the banks.

Once you turned the river to blood to free your people, but now they drown instead. When will you take notice? When will you stop the blood baths of the nations? Are you not the Deliverer? At what point do you break into the world to stop the evil unleashed? Your silence is deafening. It begs the people to look elsewhere for solutions, rather than to a God who does not appear to hear cries for help.

Your enemies laugh. They plot and plan destruction. They strategize. They are bold in their plans. Arrogant in their ability to kill, unhindered. Fear reigns the day. Your people hide and run. They wait for you to rescue them, but you are silent. Again. You do not move to save them. So, they try to save themselves. They take up weapons. They pull out shields. But their swords are dull and no match for the explosives of the enemy.

Please oh please, silence the violence, so the sobs of the mothers can be heard. So the weeping families are not forgotten. So the groaning of the world is audible to those who wield weapons against humanity. So that the cries of mourning fill the ears of the wicked and interrupt their sleep. So the nightmares of what they have done drive them mad.

Our souls are vexed and words do not come. Our hearts burn hot with sorrow. Our bones are crushed. There is nothing that can be said to comfort us. It is dark and deep, even in the daylight. There is only grief and mourning. A black shroud covers us. We cry out, “How long? How long must this evil continue?” Our voices are hoarse with our crying. No words suffice. Only tears are left. Only silence. Ours…and yours.

There is no hope, but you, O God. There is no solution of men that can stop the blood from running. Death begets death. Power knows no other way. Only you bring Peace. Only you bring hope. You are the answer to every question. Once again, the blood is crying out from the ground and you have already answered with your own. The price paid. Our groaning is our prayer. Our tears, liquid offerings to the only hope we have. Gather them in the bowls beside your throne. Use them to move on behalf of your creation. Come quickly, O God! There is no other way.

Selah.