Whenever Precious Children Die 
Saralyn McAfee Smith

 
Whenever precious children die, 
We cannot help but ask, "Lord, why?" 
"Why would You take this little one 
With so much of life still left undone?" 
And yet we know You have a plan, 
Though we may never understand, 
And from the time of each child's birth, 
You know when each will leave this earth. 
And though our years be long or few, 
We ultimately dwell with You; 
And only You know when we've met 
All the goals that You have set 
For each of us to meet down here; 
So never need there be a fear 
That there has been some dread mistake, 
For errors, Lord, You never make. 
And, so, although we know not why, 
We know it was their time to die, 
And that with Jesus hand in hand, 
They walked into Your Promised Land. 
Of course, we cannot help but grieve-- 
We were not willing that they leave, 
And we will mourn their loss each day 
And miss their sweet and loving ways. 
We'll think on days both bright and drear, 
"If only they were with us here...." 
We know our hearts will always ache, 
But us, O Lord, You'll ne'er forsake; 
All our sorrow You will share 
And our pain You'll help us bear. 
And still, O Lord, we trust Your plan-- 
We know one day we'll understand, 
When we can meet You face to face 
And You will all our tears erase. 
So may it comfort us somehow 
To know they live in heaven now, 
And that with Jesus, hand in hand, 
They walked into Your Promised Land. 
 
We thank the Lord, Saralyn,
for the  beauty of your poetry