They say I had an uncle
That joined the Barrow Gang
And shared their spree of lawlessness
And living on the lam…
 

I never met this uncle,
The Black Sheep of our clan,
But now, I often wonder,
The story of this man.
 

I wonder if the same traits,
That led to desperate means
Are in me, the same flaws…
Encoded in my genes.
 

What led him to his choices?
What drove him to such waste?
Was it acting on an impulse,
Something done in haste?
 

Sometimes I think I know him
And feel the common thread-
That somehow knits together
The Living and the Dead…
 

But I pray he found God's love
In a prison, growing old,
I pray someone cared enough
To make sure that he was told…
 

That all of mankind falls
And some, much more, it seems
But for every fallen spirit
There is One Who still redeems…
 

And I pray he found God's Grace
As his dark hair turned to white,
The Grace that takes a life so wrong
And makes it into right.

Sharon Frye
© 2004 used with permission
Heroes of the Heart

"All that the Father giveth Me shall come to Me; and him that cometh to Me
I will in no wise cast out."

~ John 6.37 

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