This is what we do for the joy of the King,
For His peaceable Kingdom,
For a world in despair.
And this is why we bring any hope we can give,
Any bread from the table,
Any touch of His hand.
This is what we do.
This is where we go.
This is why we sing.
This is how we live.
This is who we are.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

River of Resolve

The days following September 11, 2001, were extremely dark. Scary. Sad. Uncertain. Something had entered our reality that we had never imagined.  I remember being in a daze for nearly a month.  My eating was out of control--I turned to food for comfort.  Nearly everyone I know gained weight in those days.  (Nobody was eating in restaurants, but we were pigging out at home!)  

The night following the 9/11 Memorial Telethon, I wrote a poem that I later set to music. Although it's a bit "artsy," I think it reflected the sense of unity (a somewhat militant unity, I have to admit) that seemed to characterize our whole nation in those early days.  Sadly, much of that sense of unity unraveled as weeks turned into months, months into years.

Here's the poem:


Three hundred million broken hearts
Bleed a River of Resolve.
Her path of Holy Justice--
Heartless terror to dissolve.

She winds through hallowed rubble
And sacred shards of steel,
Invading dens of peril
With heroism's keel.

Her currents shatter hatred
With devastating flood,
While taking restitution
For pure and guiltless blood.

This River's flow is steady,
Her mighty mission true,
Her shiny surface glistens--
Shades of red and white and blue.

Her depth cannot be fathomed,
Her width cannot be breached;
Her length cannot be measured,
Her limits never reached.

Three hundred million broken hearts
In grief, have linked as one.
Resolved.  Committed.  Ready.
And only just begun.

Billy Joel performed the night of that telethon.  I think all 300 million of us were in a "New York State of Mind" that evening.