Frank Black Blacharczyk Luke 7:11-15
The men grieved quietly yet weeping could be heard while carrying the boy to his grave The boy’s soul was a runaway soul buying a one-way ticket leaving in the dead of night His mother helpless can’t see daylight Soon father and son would be together again Alone in despair grieving friends Their words bring no relief she was cursed The sun has risen but not her son Miracles don’t grow on trees Not often anyway It was a day she would never forget Neither would we written to remind us When a crowd walked by the Son of Man walked up to the somber men a strange scene holding her son’s lifeless body her only son Don’t cry He said to her with a comforting smile drowning in tears he dried her face This poor mother was of no importance to those who consider themselves important Yet Jesus Christ gave a simple command only God knows what happened next He paid for the return ticket for the runaway soul Her son rose from the dead the darkness cleared The sun shone again the curse disappeared It was a day of miracles written as a reminder That miracles don’t grow on trees you know Not often anyway
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