God’s Got Me

A poem about God’s never ending love | by Joey Shelton

God gave everyone gifts, but sadly not to me”

It’s hard to find the person you are supposed to be

You look in the mirror and hate what you see

But that’s when you get up and say I’m gonna be ME!

You may not know the gift you have right away

But all I say is just take it day by day

God gave us all a gift and purpose

Just be sure to not become heartless

We all have down days to the point where all we do is sin

Just remember that with God - the devil won’t win

God gave us the free will to have a choice

To sit and dwell but get up and rejoice!

We don’t know what God has planned or who is in our plan!

But I know for a fact he is MY number one fan!

God loved me when I was so low

He will always love me, and not let go!

That is the message we all need to know!

He’s there when we’re dirty and there when we’re clean

God is always where I will lean!

---

Heretical Messenger

A poem for the one who fears they’re too broken to carry Heaven’s truth. | By Taylor O’Lynn

Even if I don’t inherit the Kingdom of God—
my wayward missteps and intentional mess-ups marking me unworthy
Even if the Lord meets my eyes and whispers,
“I never knew you,”

I will still open my mouth to His goodness,
declare His mercy into the wilderness,
sing His grace from the treetops,
so someone stronger in faith,
with firmer steps and steadier hands,
might stand unashamed before His throne.

Even if I am but a heretical messenger,
a heathen clutching an envelope,
I have tasted the sweetness of His fruit,
even as my own past turns bitter in my mouth.

I beg Him, “Send me,”
though my defiled heart still seeks loopholes in surrender,
still negotiates terms in the swamp.
Yet He, unshaken,
peels me from the mire,
showers me in grace,
and steadies my feet upon His path.

I wobble between cold doubt and tepid confession,
lukewarm yet desperately longing for His flame.
But my prayer is this:
that when You taste the fruit Your Spirit bears in me,
You would find an unquenchable fire—
hot enough to melt the ice of my wayward heart,
blazing beyond the stains of my sin.

Though unqualified, though stubborn,
though roots of rebellion cling beneath my skin,
You still call me to carry Your holy news.
A heathen entrusted with heaven’s truth—
I trust the Living Water to follow me,
even as I drift in murky puddles of my own making.

For anyone that comes to Christ,
He will in no wise cast out.

---