He was nailed for me and torn for me
Yet He says come
He was annoyed for me and crucified for me
He still says come
He loved me though I was unworthy
He washed me in His blood when I was dirty
I hated all and insulted Him and listened to none
To the throne he showed me the way and still says come
Like a prodigal son, I wasted my life
With arms wide open for me, He still says come
“Daddy, I’ve sinned against you
Am not worthy to be Your son
Now, I open the door of my heart
And say Lord Jesus Come.”
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__Greetings Joyce. Shall we go again with another review?__"And He Still Says Come"
***Big-Ups: So here you're back with another sonnet styled poem. I must say, you do these well. Excellent weaving of the parable of the prodigal son and Revelation 22:17. You have a good grasp on scripture, and in this poem it comes out with solemn, lyrical passion. **You returned with the call-and-response technique as well, much less symmetrical than you displayed it in "I'll Bless You," yet this is good because it seems you are experimenting. The absence of symmetry, then, didn't bother me. *The greatest achievement of this piece, of course, is the fact that I did not get hung up on one awkward sentence, or one misspelled word! See how worthwhile revising can be?! Congratulations!! Even if the rest of your pieces are mechanically worse from this point on, this moment of triumph will forever stand out. Thank you! *Put-Downs: I only have one Joyce: this kind of writing is too easy. The short, poignant poems are your specialty, 'short' being the key word. That's where you should increase the difficulty. Here are some suggestions as to making this poem longer. Write it with perspective of the other two persons in the Trinity: Father and Holy Spirit. This will have you using Old Testament scripture for the Father, and the ways the Spirit is working in your life for the Holy Spirit with the offer still the same: come. You could have also addressed specific sins—lust, greed, pride, laziness, hatred—talking about how they appeal and destroy, while still our God says come. The idea of call-and-response has me thinking of a conversation. You might have had you talking to someone at their deathbed. While they are giving you excuses as to why God wouldn't want to accept their wasted life, you keep urging them to come.
__Overall, I like this writing. I can picture this poem framed up on a wall in a clergyman's office, or a living room. It breeds a sense of urgency in the hearts of those who read it, but it just wouldn't stand out in a line of other poems of the same nature encouraging one to come believe in their god. Keep honing your poems as if they were speaking to one specific person. May Christ bless you for writing these words.__