Maybe Tomorrow…
Our church is collecting for tornado victims,
Whose lives have been ravaged by the storms.
Strewn family photos, belongings, and
keepsakes,
No more to be found.
They are passing the plate and I say,
Maybe tomorrow…
It’s been a cold, hard winter,
And there are so many homeless to be found,
Without adequate shelter and clothing
They are hungry, wet, and tired,
Ignored by the masses and I say,
Maybe tomorrow…
During the Pandemic, so many lost their jobs,
Families by the thousands with insufficient
funds to feed their children.
Maybe I could collect canned goods, but
there’s a good TV show right now.
Maybe I could donate to help with utility
payments gone awry,
I need to do something, because I hate that
people are hungry,
Maybe tomorrow…
I see visions of scrawny kids hanging on to
life,
Parents who have mortgaged ALL to pay doctor
bills
That are endless for lives short-lived.
There are so many pictures that hurt my heart,
as they
Ask people to contribute to this need,
Maybe tomorrow…
As I read my Bible in my comfortable home,
Snuggled up in my fuzzy blanket in my corner
chair
With the light glowing brightly,
I hear Jesus’ words as I read: “Assuredly, I say to you,
Inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the
least of these,
You did not do it to Me.”
[Matthew
25:45]