Poetry

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My throat was sore that morning,
When I got out of bed.
I'll feel better later,
To myself I said.
Well, i didn't and very soon,
I was under a surgeon's knife.
But, God destroyrd the tumor
And saved this Preacher's life.
But growing just a foot away,
Was a tumor near the brain.
I did not know that it was there,
Because I felt no pain.
To make a long story short,
A Doctor finally took the tumor out,
But what happened next,
Is what this poem is about.
Twelve years went by quickly,
But with each one came change,
My brain and body weakened,
And my ministry i'd rearrange.
"God, why are you doing this?"
Each day I'd ask and pray
You called me into ministry,
"I've not forgotten," he would say.
Then one day it was over,
For thirty-six years I'd had fun,
Serving the Lord and His Church.
But then I was done.
Yes indeed, he'd not forgotten,
God had kept my calling well in sight,
But instead of preaching in the pulpit,
At a computer I now write.
Friend, don't think that God's forgotten,
About the call he placed on you,
Just look around in your life,
God has a new ministry designed for you.

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