A Missionary Poem

A new missionary pin on his badge,
All shiney and bright.
He wore it proudly
As he toiled both morning and night.
As the weeks passd slowly, and day merged into day,
this little greenie had nothing to do but pray.
His badge was now tarnished.
His proud spirit broken.
His sore feet was his only token.
No one would listen.
No one would hear.
No one allowed that Holy Spirit near.
“Why, O God?” The missionary cried. “Why send me here?
I’ve used all my smarts, but they’ll never change.
Lord, send me away.
There is no work to be done in the vineyard today.”
Then a voice came with a heavenly sound.
It comforted the child the whole world ’round.
“Be still, my son. Humble your heart,
And show me willingness to do your part.
Peace, my child. Dry your eyes.
Remember I am by your side.
I will show you what My hand can get.
You are not defeated yet.”
With new vigor, the missionary sprang to his feet.
With God as his sheild, nothing couldn’t be beat.
He rose to the task, both body and soul.
He spoke, but a little and let the Spirit flow.
Disappointment still came. His faith was still tried,
But never, never did it break his stride.
-Clorisa Hansen 7/26/13

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