Dear editor,

It is not often, sitting at my computer desk facing Summerfield Road, that I am moved to tears and cry out to our father because my heart is so stirred.

That happened today, Saturday, May 14, and this is the reason: I heard a siren and the roar of about 30 motorcycles and saw the black hearse heading north followed by the empty black limousines, and I recalled a conversation with the grieving mother of Carl Lewis Green this past week.

She said her son had requested that when he died, he be brought back out to their home near here and, with police escort, be taken then back to the funeral. She was doing all she could to honor his wishes. The entourage just returned, heading south and on to Brown Chapel for his funeral. God bless that family as they mourn the untimely death of their only son.

We have witnessed Carl riding his motorcycle up and down our road. That is no more. His mother told me a medical witness to his accident on Highway 80 indicated, when she first reached him before he died, he was praying.

Poet that I try to be, my heart was moved to write a poem for the family in honor of their love for him and his love for them. I did not know Carl, just his sister and parents.

In the poem, I wondered if Carl might now be praying for the area we live in, for those his life touched, women he knew, his children, that we might find a better way of life God’s way … better than poverty, welfare, children with no stable families, children in school being promoted though lacking skills to live on their own, growing up without a secure identity, seeking love or comfort or acceptance in all the wrong places, students rejecting other students based on the kind of shoes they wear, and on it goes.

Our world is a mess. We all need to pray and seek the father on ways to make our way back to him, for he cares for us all and sent his only son that we may “have life and have it to the full.” (John 10:10, NIV)

A full life is not because of the shoes we wear nor the money we have, the vehicle we drive, or who we know. It is knowing who and whose we are, loving others, caring for what we have been given (earth, homes, families), honoring the father God in our lives, not having to walk in shame and disobeying his ways.

I would like to think that Carl’s death could be another thing that brings us to our knees before the Lord crying out for revival in our area and in our nation.

Gail Box Ingram

Valley Grande