How did it feel, Lord? (A Poem)

How did it feel, Moses?

To see with your own eyes,

your own people hitting each other?

One brother's hard-knuckled fists,

Sinking into the soft flesh of the other?

Skin tears, bones crunch and blood splurts into the air.

My heart is breaking at the sight.

And then, turning to my face, he speaks,

his face contorted with senseless hate,

"Who made you Judge and Ruler over us?

Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian?"

My heart drops,

My chest tightens.

My shame has been uncovered.

The secret I tried to hide.

So let's run away and be alone,

Be very, very alone.

What are you doing here, Elijah?

I'm here.

Hiding and afraid.

I've seen my own people reject the LORD,

Tear down His altars,

And put His prophets to death with the sword.

And I'm the only one left.

Now they might want to kill me too.

I wonder how it felt, Stephen?

I call them my brothers and fathers,

But when they heard my words,

Their expressions changed,

Their eyes narrowed,

Jaws tightened,

They grind their teeth at me.

I look into heaven and see the glory of God,

and Jesus standing at His right hand.

"Lord, do not hold this sin against them!"

I fall asleep.

How did it feel, Lord?

To have your own people come to you with hearts devising evil schemes?

With slimy questions, flattering with the tongue, trying to trap you with clever words?

Smiling faces,

But their eyes glinting.

Take the mask off, you hypocrites!

Let's see those sharp teeth!

Let's see what's your back!

A knife clasped tightly within your hands.

How did it feel, Lord?

For your own people to come to you in droves,

asking for teaching, healing and freedom?

And the next day, they cry out

"Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"

How does it feel, Lord?

When I come to you,

Seeking blessing,

Seeking favor?

And the next day,

I say in my heart,

"You're not enough."

And I turn away.

How does it feel, Lord?

When you see your people striking each other?

With violent words,

With tongues as sharp as swords?

They swing the blade recklessly.

Wounds open, hearts bleed and the aroma of death fills the air.

Death of relationships,

Death of peace,

Death of mercy,

Death of justice.

The dim light illuminates their faces,

They're filled with senseless rage.

Their teeth gnash together,

as their fingers move at break-neck speed,

Typing, typing, typing away,

And send.

How does it feel?