THE DARKEST OF THE DARK CLOUDS
Of all the black clouds darkening heaven, for those of us in the USA, abortion is the worst of them all.
About 18 years ago, a friend wrote a poem about a man who had a dream about heaven. In it, he saw thousands upon thousands of infants marching through heaven singing “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know”. The man instantly knew they were the souls of aborted babies, and he awoke immediately. He then woke his wife and told her “Honey .. call the doctor and cancel the appointment .. that’s not a fetus, it’s a child.”
I had previously counseled with a young lady who had an abortion several years before, and I could feel the heartache as she talked. I was moved to write a poem about the thought that those who choose abortion just don’t know what they will one day face, as a result thereof. During a slack time at the office a few hours later, I turned to my computer and began typing this poem. I called it “They Just Didn’t Know”, but as the lines poured out, a very dark mood enveloped me. Several times over the course of an hour or so, I saved the work and tried turning to some other things in the office that needed doing. But the dark mood would not go away and I could not think of anything but the burden of the poem. So I finally gave in and typed and pondered until it was done, about 45 minutes later. Not until the last line came forth, did I know what its title would actually be.
One of the evidences of inspiration, to me, is that I have a hard time remembering what I write. This one took 3 weeks to memorize. I suggest the reader contemplate it prayerfully.
As the sadness of badness was having its way
The wealthy, the learned, concerned but with pleasure
Had multiplied misery to heights beyond measure
The masses raised glasses to self and to friends
Concerned with the moment, availing all ends
To serve but themselves, with never a thought
Of the millions of murders, and what they had wrought.
But what of that young one, confused and forlorn ..
Who hears mostly "worldness", shouldn't we warn
That should she die, having salvation received
In heaven she may face that soul she conceived
But killed, by means of abortionists' tools
And thus joined the ranks of those Godless fools
Who elevate mankind and pleasure on earth
At the cost of most everything of heavenly worth
And what of the seemingly intelligent mass
With doctoral credentials and worldly class
Who'll stand before God some day and explain
Why such agony, misery, anguish and pain
Were dealt out in measure unknown by the world
As satan's great plan to destroy us unfurled
And they, in their "wisdom", shed innocent blood
Tearing out children, in that terrible flood....
Who knows what to do and yet does it not
Is guilty of sin .. yet we know that a lot
Of good souls detesting such abomination
Have never submitted to Christ's domination
Else all that we do, and all that we say
Would speak volumes against those events of this day
That cause those who look on this product of woe
To know with a certainty that satan's the foe.
So sadness envelopes us all, without choice
For those who raise not a protesting voice
And all those who face not the fruit of their acts
And doctors who kill despite biblical facts
Will all face a judge asking why, in this life
We did what we did, whether with word or with knife
I know I'll plead Jesus as my only answer
But yet I'm not happy, in the face of the cancer
Of ungodly clinics, and churches that never
Cause comfortable members to be driven to sever
Those clandestine footholds the enemy will hold
In lives that won't do what the Bible has told.
Oh God, may I ask; make me up to the task
As a witness to all, whether they ask
Or silently march to those clinics to kill
Your innocent children ... in darkness so still.
That's why I wrote the poem.