
The Earth Cries Out
Recently I read an update based upon the 2017 reports of the mass grave discovered connected to a Catholic orphanage in Ireland, where bodies of up to 400 babies and young children had been discovered (see reference below). Further investigation and survivor testimonies revealed grisly stories of rapes, tortures and murders of young women and babies. More exposures are coming in 2021, and we cannot shrink back in denial.
Horrific stories of predation upon babies and young children, whether through sex trafficking or simply domination or abuse are beyond what any of us should be able to stomach. The earth itself is crying out, the blood of the innocents "cries from the soil." Solutions lie in all of us, but especially those who are part of the family of Jesus Christ, whether part of a traditional "church" or not. We are called and empowered to act in His love toward those who are suffering, and we need to do so, now more than ever before! "Religion that is pure before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world" (James 1:27).

I had a vivid dream two weeks ago in which I stood over a raging stream down river from this orphanage, and the earth itself seemed to be screaming out in pain over the crimes against these little ones. Standing in a gray mist, hearing the roaring, tearing waters, this poem came to me, and I hope it will impact you.
The Mists Call
Misery’s mournful mists
Churn and swirl in grief
Flung awry from a river unstrung
In naked agony without relief
Foam and spray of the earth
Dripping on skin, blinding eyes,
Filling nostrils, blanketing hair
A knowing of an earth more wise
Artery from the planet’s heart
Gushes against banks wrenched and torn
When the cup of wrath is filled
The full fury of justice is borne
Roiling against the treachery
Long-suffering banks now flood
Wracked through in livid fury
Against the torture and the blood
Against the blindness and indifference
Of the fetid masses who've agreed To ignore the threats and conspiracy
Of polluted pharaohs of greed
The mournful mists are calling
To His sons to rise up as one
Become those who rule and reign with Him
Until all of creation has become
A housing for His glory
As in the temple from above
But in humble, broken hearts
Abounding in steadfast love
But now, blood-soaked soil cries out
To heavens drenched in children’s tears
Millstones, ice and fire are ready
To rain upon cowards their worst fears
Sun, moon and stars do His bidding
Mountains and rivers are unleashed
To spew forth every secret
To expose till every lie is released
To burn and purge every plot
To uncover the true intentions of hate
To expel from earth’s bowels every torment
God’s righteous justice will never be late
Misery’s mournful mists
Spray sobbing flumes until joy arises
As the earth will yield her burdens
The oceans swell with surprises
For all of creation is in birth pangs
Anxious and groaning beyond measure
To display the momentous wrath of God
Released by His children, His treasures
See the fury and fierceness of mountains
Smell the smoke of burning plains
Know that only in Christ can mercy triumph
Release from His heart the healing rains!
The mournful mists are calling
To His sons: Now rise up as one!
Speak the Word, care for those who hurt
Until all of creation has become
A housing for His glory
As the shining temple from above
Filling only humble, broken hearts
Abounding in steadfast love
Chere Berman, June 2021
Reference: https://www.the-sun.com/news/388229/irelands-evil-mother-baby-homes-raped-abused/