God we cry for the children.
For the children who have known nothing else
but war and strife, and chaos.
And loss upon loss upon loss.
Who have run out of tears, and options.
Who trapped sit silenced in shock.
Eyes speaking of a hope
draining out with the blood of the lost.
Has God forgotten the children,
has he left and turned out the light?
Can we believe to find him in the darkness,
can the children see him at all?
And the mother who lost her off-spring,
can he reach her in her heart?
Can he give her a future and a hope
or has the loss cost her too much?
All I know is, God loves the children.
Bring them to me he said.
And he hears the hopeless cries
of the broken, the disbelieving, and bereft.
And although a mother weeps for her children,
and may not be comforted,
a young boy still reaches out to her
while the sibling in his arms lies dead.
No the light has not gone out in Aleppo.
It still shines through the human spirit.
It still burns, albeit weakly,
in the eyes of those who are left.
And in the hands of those who comfort,
who tend and help and treat,
against all odds the injuries,
that never seem to cease.
And although we find it hard to believe,
God is still present there.
And we bring to him the children
while our hearts break in prayer.
We bring them to a Saviour,
who knows that they are there.
©Ana Lisa de Jong