Contentment and peace, the joy in our life,
These all are disturbed by conflict and strife;
To victims created by chance or design
Our God gives a future. God says, "These are mine."
Rejected, abused, oppressed by the strong,
Created in fear and nurtured by wrong,
The victim is helpless unless there are some
Who march for the lame; who speak out for the dumb.
When innocent die, when wounded still bleed,
When outcasts remain, unheard though they plead,
Forbid Lord, that we should by word or by deed,
Snuff out a faint wick or break off a bruised reed.
Christ Jesus was kind. That man chose to seek
To be with the frail, the poor and the weak,
And standing beside those who suffered the pain
Of being the victims; with them He was slain.
When love cannot change the source of the pain,
But when that same love shares anguish and strain,
Then miracles happen, the victim is free
To look to the future with courage to be.