A mother’s prayer

God, did you know that your only Son

would be tortured, spat on -

that his life would come undone?

Under harsh hands of unbelievers

How did it not wrench your heart?

How could you watch, from Heaven above?

And feel those same nails

Be driven into your Heart of Love?

Oh God, perhaps that is why

You gave Male-kind the upper-hand

Above us fairer race; the maidens fine

Abraham sacrificed Isaac - or was willing to, at least

I, not yet a mother, would rather turn a beast

Than let my son - my blood, my flesh and Pride

Be cast into a sacrificial grave,

be tossed to Death aside

Am I too greedy?

Of my unconceived child’s love?

And bear not the thought

Of stepping in your shoes, so tough

Oh the irony it would be, if you give me a son

Who happily risks his fate for his country, 

Lets his blood freely run

Would you impart a lesson thus cruel

Unto me, a mere fool?

Could you ask a mother 
to set her love aside?

For me to witness your glory,

To be obedient without fault,

Oh God, grant us mother’s mercy -

Our sinner’s nature to revolt.

- Lina Scarborough 
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