While You Sit By

I started this poem a couple of years ago when the Lord started telling me to look beyond myself to the world around me. So I put myself into the shoes of those in this world who are lost and hurting, abused and forsaken, persecuted and orphaned. I'm sure I cannot fully comprehend or imagine what it's like to be in those shoes. But as I walk down the narrow path, my heart and eyes have been opened to the hurting around me. And I was convicted... and terrified, angered, and appalled by how many of us sit by while these things happen in our world. We who know the truth... who have hope. And a glorious, beautiful Gospel that is just waiting to be shared. At first I didn't think the format of this poem was working, so I put it aside and didn't open it again until today. Strangely it all came together in about forty minutes - the fastest I've written a poem that's more than a stanza. It's very rough, and may not make much sense to everyone at first. But for what it's worth, please enjoy - no, rather, please think about - While You Sit By.

While You Sit By

Kayla R. Woodhouse

The Lost

Is there anyone one out there

who actually sees me?

You say that you see,

but why are you two-faced?

I ponder life’s meaning

and what I am worth.

Is there a God?

What if I die?

I asked for the answers;

for someone to see me.

I cry out for freedom.

While you sit by.

The Orphaned

Is there anyone out there

who actually cares?

You say that you care,

but why am I alone?

I ponder life’s meaning

and what I am worth.

Could this be the day?

Will they adopt me?

I asked for the answers;

for someone to save me.

But I’m still an orphan.

While you sit by.

The Persecuted

Is there anyone one out there

who actually knows?

You say that you know,

but why are you dormant?

I ponder life’s meaning

and what this is worth.

Why do you speak,

but live contradictions?

I asked for the answers;

for someone to notice.

My life is now ending.

While you sit by.

The Abused

Is there anyone one out there

who actually loves me?

You say that you love,

but why do you hurt me?

I ponder life’s meaning

and what I am worth.

Why do I suffer?

What is the purpose?

I searched for the answers;

for someone to love me.

I hide in the corner.

While you sit by.

The Savior

Is there anyone one out there

who will obey Me?

You say that you know Me,

but why are you lukewarm?

I watch your actions

and how you ignore them.

This world that’s around you…

Why do you slumber?

I search for the faithful,

for someone to hear Me.

I’m calling you child…

Stand up and go.

Life

Today I will pass you …

Will you sit by?

No One Pities the Siren

As a "beforehand tidbit"...
Proverbs 7 says:
²¹ With her many persuasions she entices him;
With her ^[o]flattering lips she seduces him.
²² Suddenly he follows her
As an ox goes to the slaughter,
Or as ^[p]one in fetters to the discipline of a fool,
²³ Until an arrow pierces through his liver;
As a bird hastens to the snare,
So he does not know that it will cost him his life.

²⁴ Now therefore, my sons, listen to me,
And pay attention to the words of my mouth.
²⁵ Do not let your heart turn aside to her ways,
Do not stray into her paths.
²⁶ For many are the ^[q]victims she has cast down,
And numerous are all her slain.
²⁷ Her house is the way to Sheol,
Descending to the chambers of death.

In the past year I have learned about the sex slavery industry. I'll admit, I was a naive, conservative, and very sheltered child. Then I started online college classes at a secular college. And I started noticing things around me... It is appalling and hard to wrap my mind around. 
In the words of Leslie Ludy, today slavery "is higher then it has ever been throughout all of world history... 27 million slaves." (Sacred Singleness) Yet here in America, we sugar coat things. We consider slavery as a thing of the past - something you find in textbooks or rural Africa. But the majority of this slavery is in sex slavery - and yes, it very much happens in America. 
One of the most horrid truths I've come to realize... Christians today often - most often - look down on prostitutes. (Don't believe me? Really think about it. Think about yourself, and the people you know. What are your reactions to people and places that have to do with prostitution? What do you think about a character in a movie or story who is a prostitute? Do you have any stereotypes?) Many women do choose prostitution as a job. Do you think they all enjoy it? Do you think they all want to do that for a living? 
Now step aside from the sex factor. Do these women - and girls - need Jesus? (I'd encourage you to do some research. And reach out to women in this situation. Because... we live in a lost and dying world. Those men and women are eternal beings... headed for one of two destinations.) 
As I've learned about this horrid reality - prostitution, sex slavery, parents selling their children into the sex trade, children and young women being used (yes, sold and used) for pornography - I've felt compelled to help in whatever ways that I can. For awhile, that was a really big struggle for me. Being disabled, it's hard for me to "go and make disciples of all nations" in the literal "go" sense. But for right now, it seems I can at least reach out and make things known in my writing. I am a fantasy writer. Then I heard the legend of the Siren. The following thoughts occurred to me.
(Quick backstory: A Siren was a beautiful mystical creature who sang sensually explicit and lustful songs to lure sailor's ships into the rocks, where they would crash. Then the Siren would drown her victims.) 
It is not my intention to relate all men and women in the "sex industry" as being murderous Sirens. Rather, it is to use an allegorical example which illustrates another version of the Proverbs 7 woman, as well as the lost and hopeless world, to make people think before making judgements and think about sharing the Gospel. 

No One Pities the Siren

Kayla R. Woodhouse

No one pities the Siren.

She sings and woos,

leading men to their death.

Like an ox going to the slaughter,

as the Siren sings,

men fall prey to her spell.

No one pities the Siren.

In the cold, lonely night

she receives her orders.

Like a slave obeying its master,

when the ships come,

she must kill her victims.

No one pities the Siren.

Though she cries for release,

no one comes to free her.

Like the chained prostitute,

trapped in the ocean’s icy cage,

she must obey her master.

No one pities a Siren.

Ps. For some extra reading, check out Francine River's Redeeming Love as well as the book of Hosea in the Old Testament. Most of the inspiration for this poem came from the book of Hosea.