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By Georgina Harkness

I listen to the agony of God – I who am fed,
Who never yet went hungry for a day. I see the dead and dying –
The children starved for lack of bread
I see, and try to pray. I listen to the agony of God –
I who am warm,
Who never yet have lacked a sheltering home -
In dull alarm. The disposed of hut and farm,
Aimless and “transient” roam.
I listen to the agony of God – I who am strong,
With health, and love, and laughter in my soul,
I see a throng
Of stunted children reared in wrong,
And wish to make them whole.
I listen to the agony of God –
But know full well
That until I share their bitter cry
– Earth’s pain and hell –
Can God within my spirit dwell
To bring His Kingdom nigh.

Contributed by Sylvine in Ocala....

Sylvine writes: Years ago, when I came across this poem it, I thought it was quite odd to talk about the “agony” of God. How could God have hurt, or pain, or agony over anything? Not long after, I understood that indeed God does hurt over many things, and that such behaviors are all around us, and sometimes in us too.

It is agony to God to see women with children, and men lining up to get food and shelter; to see people with little children roaming from one place to another for fear of being killed; to see others being treated badly just because they are different – the list goes on.

But my friend – It is also agony to God when I fail to thank and praise, and lift Him up for all His wondrous work in my life and in the lives of those I love and care for. May God help us to continue to strive to be the people we ought to be. Thank you for allowing me to share with you.

   -- Sylvine

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