When your falls end up on the trampoline
When you are celebrated like a muddy kid
When you have a trash can to let out how you feel
When you have a diary to express your promises, your vows on impulse
When you make deals with dirty hands and bounce out because you have backup
When you talk rashly and he saves you from the consequences
When you had to say you are saved because your looks do not say so
When your uniform is all flesh and no authority
All bark and no bite
Harmless as a dove but not wise
Gentle as a dove but not bold
Too many call him Saviour
Yet not willing to join his league
Save others with your skin
Be the servant that wears the crown
If only you make him Lord so he can wear you as glove
He saved you but he cannot make the most out of you
Tell me, whose father will be happy
The one who sees a son take his car keys and drive mommy to pick the groceries
Or the one whose grown up son still begs to be taken to the candy shop
Not through the corners anymore
It is you I speak of!
You who has refused to let him make you his kind
You who has refused to do his bidding, close his deals, take his ideas into reality
Yes, you who has refused to use the gifts embedded in you
To double it
To perfect it by the reason of use
Is it too much to ask?
To live a life of the One who died in your stead?
Had to come back to life so Guilt will not become your friend
Had to stay back so that you will not lose track
Too many call him Saviour
Very few know what it means for him to be Lord
I hope you are the few.
I have said enough.
Hannah DGinus
©2024
Christ a poet 