This poem by Jamy Starling talks about her emotions surrounding her faith.
Why forgive the unforgivable
How to forgive a pain so hard to heal.
A thought that we must bear,
Imprinted in our minds, of what we have done.
He was the way,
And we did away with Him.
We threw away the one that loved you,
More true than anyone else.
How could you forgive what we have done?
To kill a God, we should die.
But yet we’re given a chance, a hope,
A Father, someone to love us.
Help us when we fall, words to heal our hearts,
And bring joy to our soul.
When we would not welcome.
The one’s that rejected Him,
The ones that laid their hands on Him,
The ones that watched,
And the one’s that did nothing.
When time after time again,
We rebuke Him.
Whom people scream His name in curses.
When some only follow for fame.
Only to seem as if no one believes.
Forgive us. Why? When we create the sin.
We create the chaos that destroys.
Over and over we throw away our chances,
2nd chance, 3rd chance, 4th chance.
How many more will be given,
Before we make the world plummet into chaos.
Why not replace us with better creatures,
Ones that will listen to you?
Ones that are honest and true,
Nor ever tire of following you.
Why shouldn’t you?
Forgive us why?
We don’t deserve it.
I don’t forgive us.
It should be a joke,
That you would ever make a way for us.
Why do that?
You know what happens.
And you keep letting things happen.
People die every day,
The one’s that didn’t entirely deserve it,
And you, who didn’t deserve it at all.
It seems to be untrue that he’d be there for us.
He’s the shadow lurking making sure you’re safe.
He only lets you go when it’s time.
He’s the breeze we over look,
That keeps us cool when anger strikes.
The one that “Troubles” us,
But he only wants us to be close to Him.
The whisper in the night that says it’s safe.
The only one that could ever be our overseer.
We crucified and cast Him out,
But he’s still there.
We should be kneeling down for forgiveness,
To only be rejected.
How can it be?
To be forgiven.
And yet it is so.
We are forgiven.
What a comforting thought.
About the Author
Jamy Starling is in 8th grade. Her inspiration for writing stories began when she was little: her dad would tell her stories about a sea cucumber, herself, and four turtles named I got it, I got it, I got it, and I don’t got it. Giggles filled those nights, leading her to dream of magic. At age 6 she wrote her first 2-paragraph story, and since fourth grade, has been hooked on the art of storytelling. Her favorite part of storytelling is finding a spark of inspiration from life that would seem small to the eye and turn it into a story that people might enjoy.