Despite Them
by Mary Ann Samedi
I came to them—heart open wide,
With restless thoughts I could not hide.
Their eyes met mine, then turned away,
Lost in storms they could not say.
Their presence, once strong with truth and grace,
Now distant, hollow, out of place.
The wisdom I had hoped to find
Was buried deep beneath their mind.
They meant no harm, just couldn’t see
The plea behind my quiet plea.
Too wrapped in chaos, wounds, and ache,
They had no balm for me to take.
But still—somehow—I didn’t fall,
Though I stood near the crumbling wall.
Though no one spoke or lit the path,
God gently stayed the coming wrath.
A whisper rose within the night,
A flicker born of unseen light.
A word from Scripture, soft and true,
A quiet song the Spirit drew.
No mentor’s voice, no guiding hand—
Just mercy I can’t understand.
When they fell short, He stepped in tight,
Shielded my soul from loss and night.
He knew they’d fail—and loved them still.
He met me on that waiting hill.
Not all who wear the teacher’s name
Will show up strong or bear the flame.
But grace, it moves beyond our lack.
It finds a way to bring us back.
So if their silence leaves you bare,
Know God comes through—despite their care.