In May last year as I watched the rain fall on my window pane, my heart broke for this precious sisters that are enduring horrific torture, this is what I wrote for them...
Raindrops fall on to the window pane, in complex mosaics and grand designs.
Their lives touch my window pane, their forms are all unique and one of a kind.
The light catches their form and suddenly they become stars - Orion's belt and our Milky Way glean inside the frame and fill the night hours with light.
The painting of light becomes alive and suddenly portrait pictures dance upon my pane, what beautiful wonder fills the glass. She dances on and on she dances.
I reach out and touch the glistening surface with my shadowed fingertips but draw back quickly, the glass is cold enough to harbour snow. The light seems to slow down and tears take their place, weeping the drops begin to fall. Their arms are not strong enough to hold on to a slippery surface that is so cold. My arms are not long enough as I watch them fall and then disappear as they reach the ground. Puddles of raindrops fill the clay beyond the pane and I hope beyond hope that they will again appear as stars to once again light the way.I hope against all hope and wish upon a star, mouthing silent prayers to the God who made it all. I am a raindrop and I need the rest of my family, for without the heaviness of our presence within society's clouds - drought will smother the ground.....
Their lives touch my window pane, their forms are all unique and one of a kind.
The light catches their form and suddenly they become stars - Orion's belt and our Milky Way glean inside the frame and fill the night hours with light.
The painting of light becomes alive and suddenly portrait pictures dance upon my pane, what beautiful wonder fills the glass. She dances on and on she dances.
I reach out and touch the glistening surface with my shadowed fingertips but draw back quickly, the glass is cold enough to harbour snow. The light seems to slow down and tears take their place, weeping the drops begin to fall. Their arms are not strong enough to hold on to a slippery surface that is so cold. My arms are not long enough as I watch them fall and then disappear as they reach the ground. Puddles of raindrops fill the clay beyond the pane and I hope beyond hope that they will again appear as stars to once again light the way.I hope against all hope and wish upon a star, mouthing silent prayers to the God who made it all. I am a raindrop and I need the rest of my family, for without the heaviness of our presence within society's clouds - drought will smother the ground.....
While these precious girls are still missing, we cannot be silent! We can pray and petition!
And we can also write a letter. That's write Open Doors has just opened the call to write an E - Letter to the parents of the missing Chibok girls in Nigeria. I cannot think of a better way to encourage a suffering parent, then by letting them know that we are standing with them across the oceans. Let us take a few minutes and write a letter of encouragement to our fellow brothers and sisters across the sea, click the following link to write.... Write to the Chibok Parents
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