At the bottom of this introduction, I’ve posted a poem. I have no idea who this poem is for! Perhaps I never will know! But, over the past few days I’ve been compelled to pull it from the archives of inspirational poetry that I wrote years ago and share it. Maybe someone will read this poem today and find it inspiring. Maybe someone will read it tomorrow, or perhaps it won’t be read for many years to come. I wrote this poem during my early years as a Christian, a stay-home mom, organizing my busy schedule as a fitness professional around the many needs of my children. I wrote it at a time when I felt a burning desire to share what I was learning about God, while walking out my own faith. I wanted to reach out and encourage others who might be facing similar circumstances in their lives. Yet, in contrast, feeling so hypercritical, because of the many shortcoming I knew I had. One of those shortcomings beginning the fact that I struggle with dyslexia. Ironically, after all these years, I’ve found myself in the same state of doubt concerning this blog. Once again, I’ve been questioning whether or not to share the meat of my inspirational. This new, yet old debate, began anew, when I pulled a huge file of unsorted, inspiration work from my filing cabinet. Hidden work, that was discarded, forgotten for decades. When suddenly, this poem was dropped in my mind! This happened just a few days ago. Two additional confirmations came my way, telling me to pay attention to the text. As I read this poem, I was reminded that its not my efforts or power or grace, but God’s flowing through me that inspires others. That even though I am anything but perfect, my Jesus IS perfect, and when He places something on my mind to do, I’d much rather do it and look foolish, than miss an opportunity to spread His goodness. So, my friends, I hope the following poem blesses you! It was written for the young and old, for housewives and business professionals, for single parents and couples struggling to balance their marriages, for laymen and ministers, and all who fall in-between. For everyone who might be doubting their abilities. So, upon the posting of this poem and other material like it, please remember… I’m ALWAYS ministering to my imperfect self! God bless!
“Behold, I have indelibly imprinted (tattooed a picture of) you on the palm of each of My hands…”
(Isaiah 49: 16, Amplified Bible)
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? INDEED!
One day while thinking about the Lord,
His heavenly throne, His mighty Word,
How much my God has done for me,
His faithfulness, His love, complete.
I thought about His timely plan,
To rescue me, to rescue man,
Which made me wonder—
What can I do for Him?
How can I share His tender touch,
Speak forth His Word, talk of His love,
So others might know of Him?
While contemplating these things
I became keenly aware of my shortcomings.
They multiplied in my head,
Raised high on a pedestal, magnified for all to see.
I asked myself,
How could someone like me possibly glorify the Jesus I know?
“Who do you think you are? Indeed!
“That He, the Lord, the King of Kings,
“Could ever use someone like you?
“What do you think that you could do?
“Stop and take a look around
“At mighty men that He has called.
“His miracles, through them abound.
“He’d never use someone like you!
“Who do you think you are?”
And so, my spirit deflated
As I believed those thoughts!
It was true, God couldn’t use someone like me?
Best If I just let it be…
But then… a still small voice, the Holy Spirit,
Whispering in my ear, ever close,
Asked me to stop and listen to His side.
Passages from His Word flooded to my mind.
Steady words of truth, reminding me of His power,
These truths rose above the chastening slander,
Challenging the thoughts that tore me down.
I was reminded of who I am in Him.
Encased in armor, strong and bold,
Enforced with God’s most piercing sword,
Desire blazing in my soul,
The Spirit, urged me on,
With assurance that He was on my side.
Who do I think I am? Indeed!
I am a child of the King!
I am the one who has received
The gift that God so freely gives!
I’m seated in His heavenly spheres,
And when I pray, my Father hears.
His precious blood, it covers me.
It cleansed my past, it set me free.
I’m gilded with redeeming grace
And when I die, I’ll see His face.
Next time you question who I am,
Go to the Lord, look at his hands.
Imprinted on His palm you’ll see,
A picture of His child, Me!