Poetry

---

What else can we do, but rejoice?
What else can we do, but be glad?
He has taken us: the lonely, wandering, lost and solitary –
And He has put us; placed us and blessed us into His extended family.

Adopted unto Him: He calls me ‘son’.
Chosen by Him: He calls me ‘child’.
What can I do, but rejoice? What can I do, but be glad?

Destined for darkness, and doomed to damnation:
had it not been for Him, and His saving Grace.
Taken out of the pit, and set upon a rock.
What else can I do, but rejoice? What else can I do, but be glad?

What else can I be, but thankful?

A privilege and honour, it is to be freed.
To confess, and be blessed with wholesome, true liberty.
If given the choice, the loudest rejoice, could not fully voice this wondrous truth.
This saving grace. This God given faith.
But even so, should it be still?
Should it be hushed?
Should it be quiet?

No, for what can I do but rejoice? What can I do but be glad?


© Jonathan Boustead 2010

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE