Someone sent me a poem today. Since I'm too tired to be clever or philosophical, and the alarm still needs to be set for 4 a.m. so I can see my family off from our week's visit, I'll just pass it along with the hope that it will touch some of the same chords in others that it touched in me. I've always had a few stated life strategies. One is that if you want someone to learn something, tell it with humor. The other is that if you're going to point fingers while you teach, point them at yourself. This poem does both so well. Thanks to Betty for sharing this one.
All Life is Poetry
I was shocked, confused, bewildered
as I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
nor the lights or its decor.
It was the folks I saw in Heaven
who made me sputter and gasp--
the thieves, the liars, the sinners,
the alcoholics and the trash!
There stood the kid from seventh grade
who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
who never said anything nice.
There was one I always thought
was rotting away in hell,
sitting pretty on cloud nine,
and looking pretty well.
I nudged Jesus, "What's the deal?
I'd love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.
"And why's everyone so quiet?
Could you please give me a clue?."
"Hush, child," He said, "They're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you."