A Place Just Right For Me

Long did I yearn, some Christian niche to fill,
My heart on fire His road to level straight;
How I wished for a voice that could men thrill;
I asked, "Dear Lord, may I change lost men's fate!"
Hymns brought tears of joy when choirs sang His praise,
And I dreamed, "If only I could sing as they!"
Yet, alas, I knew. my head bowed in shame,
My witness must take wing some other way.
At last, my Father's words to me were clear,
"Fear not, my son, there is a place for you;
Take up your pen, and be my sonneteer;
Exalt my name in verse, and my Son's name, too!"
He has a place just right for each to fill,
No matter who, or how endowed with skill!

I found a strange and difficult means of serving Him, writing sonnets which few enjoy reading nowadays, but it brings me joy praising Him this way, sending these verses into cyber space. None may read, but He does, and like the Master said, "My word will not return to me void." Who knows when, by chance, someone will make a Google search for "love sonnets", read one of mine, and a phrase will stick and grow, resulting in his second birth? Just one would repay my hours of effort.

Since I began publishing these blogs I have received several scam emails, a few comments with questions that I was happy to answer, and a criticism or two. Some have read a poem or two from almost every state and several foreign countries, and a few have returned for a later look. So far, the most searched-for poem has been "The Deer Hunter's Prayer". I found that Michigan has a web site called "The Deer Hunter's Prayer", and hunters from other states often visit my blog site, looking, no doubt, for the club site. That's ok with me, for I would be thrilled to have a copy of my poem framed and hanging on the wall of a rustic camphouse for hunters. Spread my gospel, Jesus said, and that is a good way to do it.

I write for the glory of Jesus Christ, not for gain or fame. The labor is worth it even if it wins no one for Him. After all, Isaiah preached to Israel 700 years before Jesus was born with no result. For his efforts, the Jews put him into a hollow log and sawed it in two. I am expecting a slightly better return for my efforts.