History

You were there in ’41 when the bombs came raining down
And there in 1945 when victory came to town.
With ticker tape and bands and speeches, loud and raucous cheers,
We all gave thanks to You that day, some through stinging tears.

You were there in 1950 in a far-off frozen land.
At Inchon, at Pusan, wherever we made a stand.
And ’53, when peace came, the young men came back home,
You were there among them; they never fought alone.

In 1963, on a bloodstained Dallas street,
Flags everywhere at half-mast, a nation stunned in grief.
A tiny boy’s salute that brought us all to tears,
A solemn march to an eternal flame, yet You are still right here.

In ’68, in Memphis, on a hotel balcony,
You were in the heart of one who died to set his people free,
And Your voice was in the echo of a thundering broadcast.
Though one shall pay the price...all are “free at last.”

Through Vietnam, through Watergate, foundations of our land
Were shaken badly to the core, but You alone still stand.
Our innocence was lost it seems; why did You go away?
You never really left us; it was we who went astray.

In Munich, 1973, when evil raised its head,
Black-hooded assassins, eleven athletes dead.
Where is justice? Where is God? Why did they have to die?
Yet, Your voice, calm and quiet…"Be still…you’ll get by.”

September of 2001, need I even say.
The burning pain inside us upon that blackest day.
Satan laughing with delight at all the evil done,
But we, who were divided…rose again as one.

Why is it that we only think of You in time of need?
Are we so deaf and blind? Why can we not see?
And you, Osama, you great fool, if you really want changes done
Why can’t you follow Gandhi, and King….and Jesus….THEY all WON.

You were aboard Titanic, Lord, when she sailed out on the blue,
You were aboard Challenger, and on board Columbia too,
In a plane over Lockerbie, Scotland….in a London subway train.
Though evil swells from the depths of hell...in the end, You still reign.

I heard a verse long ago about footprints in the sand.
When the years are good, two sets of prints, we walk, Lord, hand in hand.
But darkness comes; we look behind, one set of prints we see.
These footprints are our history….the prints belong to Thee.