Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Where is Love?

A homeless person is ignored by the preacher, the Christian, the politician. They are hungry, without food, without hope, without promise, without a pillow, without a coat. They are political pawns, soldiers, the mentally ill, and the unemployed. Where is Love?

A prisoner is in jail, one deserving, another not. One is guilty, one innocent. Both have family, both have responsibility. They have a heart; have regret, but no future outside of the bars that keep them captive. Both are condemned, both found guilty. Where is Love?

A prostitute walks the street to pay for food, to pay for drugs, to pay for rent, to pay for a birthday present of a child at home. There is no future, no hope, no promise, and no job. Society mocks, but fails to understand the heart of the abused. Where is Love?

There is a beaten child, beaten beyond recognition. They cry, but no one hears, they want, but no one gives. The child is ignored, turned away until too late. Then we get angry, pretend to care, seek justice, in death and heartache, but not life. Where is Love?

There is the immigrant, from across the border. They want for family, to feed them, earn for them, care for them. They take a chance on this thing called freedom, only to be rejected. Send them back, terrorists, evil, yet human. Where is Love?

There is the rich, easy to hate, blame them for our lack. They worked hard, have learned to love, and some learn to give. They excel, they feel, they hurt, they cry, just like you and I. Take their money, tax them more, we deserve it. Where is Love?

There are the lonely, no family, and no friends, in a darkened room all alone. There is a radio, a television, a singer, a song and a landlord. The sound of passing traffic, one hears a siren, an ambulance, a policeman, but not a voice. Where is Love?

A saint sings about injustice, but no one hears. A message of justice, of peace, of love, that message doesn’t sell. The singer sings, the singer gives, some listen, some learn, some care, or so they say. When he dies he is buried in a simple pine box, no one notices. Where is Love?

There is the Arab, a different faith, one we don’t understand. They must all be terrorists. Can we trust them? Can we know them? Can we take a chance? They have their names, they have their ways, it is all because of them, and we know it. Where is Love?

The sick, no insurance, they don’t deserve it, or so we think. They are contagious, who can visit? We don’t have time, don’t have the desire, and don’t have the immune system. Some die, and then we grieve, no time during life. Where is Love?

The Husband doesn’t have time to be a father, don’t have time to love his wife, he works, and works, and works, and works. Then there is the game, the friend at the bar, maybe the computer deserves time, there are so many distractions. Where is Love?

The wife works; she has her job, not just an outside job, but also at home. She is sometimes a single mother, sometimes in a family. Two jobs to pay the bills, forget the kids not enough time. Things she can’t do without, but others sacrificed. Where is Love?

The union worker works hard for others, or is it themselves? What about the owner, the partner, or firm? They want their own, no matter the concern. Better jobs, better wages, better benefits, and more. Sometimes they just want to even the score. Where is Love?

The employer cares for themselves, better pay, vacations, cars, and more. They get paid more, yet are misunderstood; they take the chance, but sell their soul for a higher profit margin. People talk behind their backs. Is it just ambition? Where is Love?

There is a slave in a far away land. Maybe close to home. We pretend to not know them, pretend they don’t exist, but they do. Children around the world, and women there to, there please others, but what can we do? Where is Love?

The drug addicts masks their pain, they mask it with drugs that drive them insane. It’s their fault, their problem, their pain so why care. They destroy themselves or so we think, we all pay the price for addictions. But we let them drown. Where is Love?

The black man is hated in the south, but not just there, inequality, injustice exists everywhere. Blacks hate Whites; Whites hate Blacks, Mexicans hate Asians and you get the point. We say we don’t but hatred is everywhere. Poor Martin, poor Rosa, have we forgot? Where is Love?

The poor still exist, they still do without, some are poorer than others, but they still have reminders. A nice car, nice television, nice clothes, a good meal and nice bling, those things we judge, yet never consider, they use the system, and we leave it at that. Where is Love?

Then there’s the preacher, he pretends to care. He is so caught up in hearing himself that he forgets about the people he is supposed to serve. Made any visits? Prayed for your friends? Give to the needy? Know any non religious folks? Why or why not? Where is Love?

Then there is a King, who stepped from his throne, for the homeless, the prisoner, and the prostitute to. He loved the beaten child, Mexican, and rich, their needs and love unbound. Not just for them, but the lonely, saints and Arabs too. There is the sick, husband and wife, the union worker and employer the gift is offered to. The slave and addicts, the blacks and the poor, even the preacher is loved by the King of all Kings. That king loves us, he offers us all, but do we share it, or give it he taught us to? Or hide it and horde it, as if we don’t really care? Where is Love?

Some may think the following song has no identiy with the words above. I disagree. Listen, watch, just click on the video, if the video don't appear, just click on the link.


Here is another video that shares much of what The Virtual Pew is all about. The song is by Michael W. Smith, Love One Another.


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