LIP SERVICE

Upper Iowa University Choir, 2/2015; Robin Jons, Director
 7 Nepalese, 2 Africans, 3 African Americans,
and 1 white kid (Robin's son, Seth)

We all pay lip service when tragedy strikes. 

"What a shame!" "How terrible!"
"We must pray for those unfortunate ones!"

Then we go about our day, secretly relieved it wasn't us this time.

         It was another town, another state, another country,
on the other side of the world.

We watch the horrific images of bodies buried alive,
bloody grandmothers, families under a tarp,
blue toddlers not responding to resuscitation. 

We hear the frantic shouts of men
digging in the rubble with their bare hands
before time runs out on those trapped beneath.

"Oh, how awful for them!" "What a tragedy!"

We go about our business, sweep our floors, do the dishes, 

 feed the cats, figure something out for supper. 

Life goes on.

But this time, it's different.

This time, the faces on the screen resemble faces
 of those I've come to love, to call family.

They are now MY families' homes in ruins.
My loved ones lost and missing in the destruction. 

My prayers are no longer lip service.

This time, it's personal.

This time, I can do something about it.