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The proclamation of Salvation is quite an invasion.
If the Life you proclaim you don’t live.
It draws much attention and creates a dissension.
And others won’t want what you give.
My sister came over with a car that was broken.
The rear window shattered to bits.
I woke from my nap at the sound of the rap,
On the front door awakening my wits.
It was raining outside creating such a wet ride.
Garage saleing will be put on hold.
It was Saturday you see when all the women are free,
To buy junk sitting out in the cold.
I told her to call her insurance man Paul,
Leave a message for the weekend was here.
With the fixing of glass, I would take a pass,
So away she went with a jeer.
An hour went by and the “ringer” went high.
My sister had some words for me.
My compassion was poor as she stood at my door.
And she told me how bad I could be.
For comfort next time she would search out to find,
Another sibling who is true.
Who would give her some words that were not for the birds,
Then maybe she wouldn’t be so blue.
She slammed down the phone as I stood there alone,
Wondering just what I had done.
Her profession of Christ now seemed like a heist.
And no one for the Kingdom is won.
The proclamation of Salvation is quite an invasion.
If the life you proclaim you don’t live.
It draws much attention and creates a dissension.
And others won’t want what you give.
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