It lay there, crumpled and scattered,
A mass of papers, all alone.
Its author discouraged, gone away,
To ponder what should now be done.
Her time, her life, had been outpoured,
With deep desire to touch and bless,
And now rejection showered down
To darken thoughts and fling distress.
She took a walk, in thought, in prayer,
Humbled, confused, and wondering how
The message of her written work,
Suspended, could be called back now.
She gazed around her at the world.
Its intricate design shone through.
How could mere mortal words express
The things that only God can do?
Then as she stopped, her head bowed low,
Sweet thoughts streamed to her from above,
“My child, I am right here to help,
And give you words to speak My love.”
Returning to the darkened room
Where the tossed manuscript still lay,
She grasped a page against her heart,
And vowed to start anew that day.
Rejection itself rejected,
She learned God’s lesson, treasured dear:
To try and try and try again,
‘Til thoughts, then words, came plain and clear.
It’s not so much what others think,
Nor how she fits in with the rest,
What matters most is writing truth,
And giving God her very best.
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