And I ask, through angry tears, how can it be
That we who love still fall again and again?
In spite of prayers and acts and words of love, unfree
We daily fall to fear, and sin, and pain.
My Grandpa said, as his life began to wane,
“I sometimes ask, ‘Why did this happen to me?’
“But I know why, if I’m honest. The answer is plain
“I smoked for fifty years, and soaked up UV.”
Even at the end, in pain, eaten up by cancer,
He said “Without the pain I would never have come to know
How it is to float, embraced in a sea of love.”
Perhaps, under the Mercy, sin will have the same answer,
And that which beat and scarred us down below
Might yet, perhaps, be worship up above.