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Why do I haste when it comes to my Lord?
Why don’t I flaunt him with pride?
Why do I know of his wondrous reward,
yet still keep my feelings inside?
I witness to people, but not all that often,
as long as I feel there’s no threat.
I wait for a heart that is longing to soften.
I fish with a very small net.
The words that I write, in the form of these poems,
are easy as feelings expressed.
I know they are going to Christian type homes.
To people, with lives, also blessed.
My verbal confessions are slower in coming,
to those who are, so much, in need of.
I’m not quite so quick at this beat I’m now drumming,
to break of this bread they could feed of.
I’m sorry to say, I’m a closet type Christian,
not active in Christian events.
Not reaching out to those needin assistin’.
I can’t get around my repents.
I worry at times, what people are thinking.
I’m not all that great at rejection.
I know I must witness without even blinking,
in order to make Christ’s connection.
If Jesus had acted the way I am acting,
the world would have never been saved.
I think of the souls that he still is attracting.
Feel shame, now, for how I’ve behaved.
It’s out of the closet! The woodshed! Whatever!
It’s time to come out of my shell.
The Lord has a message, I’m proud to deliver.
A story I can’t wait to tell.
Not all will agree with me. Some will poke fun.
Some will condemn what I say.
I only can pray, when my life’s said and done,
I’d caught a few sheep going astray.