Even while tears were falling for the loss of our own child, the Lord was speaking to my heart. My babies are in a better place, but what about these children . . .
Those whose homes are ripped apart by sin and devastation . . . . who will cradle them while they cry?
The little ones who have no home to go to . . . . who will tuck them into bed at night?
In countries ravaged with famine, and starving children look up with sunken eyes . . . . who will give them a bit of food?
Those precious babies left all alone in the world . . . . who is there to kiss their soft cheeks?
All those children who have witnessed death and destruction before their very eyes . . . . who will protect them from the terror they behold every day?
The hurting children who suffer tragic abuse . . . . who is there to help heal their wounded spirits?
And those precious, precious little ones who were never given the choice to live . . . . . . . . who will mourn for them?
Their blood cries out, for they are souls too.
Let us not forget the children.