Chance to Live Jesus
By: Scott J. LePage
T’was a cold and wind blustery November day;
I was traveling north for the Thanksgiving play;
The snow was piled high on both sides of the road
And the wind blew it at you wherever you’d go.
Through Midwest and Edgerton onward I struck;
I stopped off in Wright for to gas up the truck;
Then onward and northward to the town of Gillette.
That is where me and that old cowboy met.
I’d stopped at a station for nature had called;
She’d left a message for me on the wall
In big ‘ole block letters read John 3:16
And somebody else had writ something obscene.
Was back at my truck when I saw the old man;
With a sandpaper face and old leather for hands.
He was propped up half drunk in a dusty tweed suit
With a handwritten sign that said he’d work for food.
I reached in my pocket for something to give;
The thought crossed my mind how this poor guy must live;
And I wondered where would he be sleeping that night.
I gave him some change and smiled most polite.
If I’d had more time I’d have taken him out
and I would have fed him and clothed him, no doubt…
but the love of Christ groaned as I gave him the jilt
and bought with my change absolution from guilt.
Just what would folks say if they saw me with him?
I’m so much like Scrooge and he’s so tiny Tim;
We must share this Jesus in Word and in deed
By dusting their coat off and tending their need.
We pass by bell ringers with hardly a glance;
We play like a dunce with our hands in our pants;
We offer no kindness where there’s no return;
And in our so doing, condemn them to burn.
You’ll sit there and hear this; you’ll digest the words;
You’ll justify greed and forget what you’ve heard
But I’m willing to bet there’s a small precious few
Who’ll chance to live Jesus with all that they do.
T’was the night before Christmas and covered with snow
That old man lay dying; but I didn’t know.
My conscience was clear as the dew at the dawn.
My chance to live Jesus for him was all gone.
Copyright © 2005 Scott LePage
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