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


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