A while back, my pastor took a year off from ministry to deal with some fairly serious personal issues. This broke the hearts of many in our church. He had started our church from a group of 12 people. We couldn't imagine us without him. Anyway, my mother wrote a poem about that time. And I have now translated it because I couldn't help myself.
Though it hurt when our good-byes were spoken
And though solitude filled me with fear
One thinks one can fix what is broken
But the presence of war was too clear…
I remembered our grandfathers' striving
The soldiers in photos, the brave
The bullets and bombs, the surviving
And the somber accordion's strain
I cannot seem to fathom your leaving
It all seems like a dream with no end
I am seeing you off and I'm grieving
For the struggle that you'll have to stand
I'll remember your words by the doorstep
Yes, a year is a long time but, mind
I will listen until I hear your step
I will welcome you arms open wide!
If you hear your return is unlikely
If they claim you might not make it through
You will see my own fist as it's striking
You will sense your friend fight beside you!
And I'll stay next to you as it's raining
In my love I'll be sturdily clothed
I will shield you with strength I've been gaining
I will cover your back from the blows!
No attack will deter your arrival
Both my hands will be pierced in the fray
You'll appear on the golden horizon
And this time you'll be with me to stay!
Your Church