The Drugged Baby

THE DRUGGED BABY – a poem by Gralefrit

The Lord says to me, ‘Fight the fight’

Give up your right and step into the light.

Pick up your cross

Lose all that dross

Count it all loss

Again I say, ‘Pick up your cross.’

‘But Lord’ I stutter, ‘there is no way’

‘I must speak and have my say

What about my human right

To choose whether to pick up my cross and fight?’

The orphan and widow; the sick and poor

What will you say when they knock on your door?

‘Come in’ says I, ‘I’ve a great speech to give!’

‘But only speak life’ they say, ‘we want to live!’

Human rights can be human wrongs

But the question is, for whom do you long?

‘You say you long for me,’ declares the Lord, ‘you even bend your knee’

But my Spirit knows when you don’t want to see.

A baby has been born this very day

Her mother’s on crack, she has no say

You had the call to provide a way

A way to make her life pay.

This new born baby, will you take her in?

Into your home, out of life’s bin

Will you take her, a gift from me?

To show her my love and help her to see?

‘Yes Lord, I will pick up your cross

and answer the door.

Let her invade our home our hearts

But only if you invade my heart and make it your home!’

I accept the call, this gift, this poor drugged up broken baby girl

To love ’til it hurts and then some more

To see her break free of drugs and pain

And pray all the while that in Christ, a new life she’ll gain.

Glory to Christ

I accept your gift.

Amen and amen.