The
agony of memory haunts her, of a dark and painful day;
Of
laying on a gurney, while they rip her child away.
What
drove her to this moment, to such awful desperation;
Was
fear or inconvenience the fatal motivation?
Years
go by, escape from memories are few;
She
awakes at night sobbing, “Where is little Andrew?”
Her
arms long to hold him, feel his warmth, soothe his brow;
But
that is not to be, her arms are empty now.
There
is no undoing of this evil, no ending of the pain;
No
changing of the past, or going back again.
Oh,
to tell him that he’s loved, to ask him to forgive;
Yet,
how can she explain the horror that she did?
She
feels she can’t survive, another day of this despair;
But
there is a place of rest, and that’s in Jesus’ care.
For
this very sin, was He shamed and pierced and scourged;
For
this very sin, did He pay the penalty she deserved.
Sacrifice
and burnt offering, God does not desire;
A
broken and contrite heart, is all that He requires.
Her
eyes, her heart, her soul, must be fixed upon the Savior;
Or
she’ll sink as Peter did, when walking on the water.
In
Him is deepest understanding, in Him is endless love,
In
Him is total healing, that comes only from above.
To
do as the Apostle did, and leave behind the past;
Is
for God to carry her painful burden at last.