When Will I Be Used? (1) Poem by Michael P. Johnson

Upon the shelf, God’s servants while
Like books that gather dust
Imagine Satan’s joyful smile
Or Jesus’ sheer disgust

God’s servants say, “Does no one care?
To Christ I too belong
Yet some who have the highest chair –Mt.23: 1-
Won’t let me sing God’s song

I must arise my Light has come
God’s glory’s all around
I can’t just sit as though I’m dumb –Eph.5: 19-21
Or by the devil bound

From You my God, this gift’s now mine
My cup You overfill
Yet fruit I’ll bear within The Vine –Jn.15: 2
Won’t come if I sit still

In Christ, I need to give my best –1Co.14: 26
Yet somehow Lord, it seems
So many deem to end my quest
And shatter all my dreams

Too many sit in church content
Whose deeds will count to nought
But me; my God, I’m just not meant
To squander all I’ve bought

Its not in pride I say these things
You know my heart is true
For You alone, this now sings
For no one else but You!

Yet still reserved upon the bench
I sit here so confused
To You, it’s such an awful stench
So when will I be used