By Dorothy Kraljev
(Our church provides what we call "Talent Night" every three months or so, to enable its members and especially new attendants the opportunity to reach out to the body of the church particularly in the area of music. Having been blessed so often by this event, I began questioning my lack of talent, and decided to attempt to put my feelings into words. It later occurred to me that perhaps others might also share my sentiments and fall into self-doubt. Amidst other melodies, I "sang my song" my first Talent Night.
Lord, I wish I did...
But I don't.
If I could just have...
But there's nothing there.
I would love to share You with them in a song...
Yet, when I part my lips
Only silence falls from them.
Or perhaps I could play a melody to make them feel
As though You've touched their hearts...
I have no special talents, Lord
So how can I tell them of You?
"Don't be so sensitive," they've said.
Why not tell me, don't be you?
Please just accept me as I am
It's really the only one I know how to be!
Don't ask me not to feel
Please, just accept me when I do.
The Good Lord passed out gifts one day, and I stood in line
In fact I stood in every line, but was I too late?
I got a touch of each, but nothing to brag about
...A dab of beauty, homemaking, artistic and musical abilities...
But Father, a dab...is so small...
that's not much to work with...
But there it was, all by itself, obscurely hidden
No one really wanted it...
It was the ability to feel...feel for many...
...Be a friend...
It sits there untouched, because to take it comes the
Hurts ... and pain...and tears...
That caring and sharing brings.
Leave it to me, to stumble on it
And guess who won the prize...it was MINE!
Now it's not gaudy, or showy
It might even be overlooked by some,
Amidst the other gifts.
But ya' know, it's not all bad.
It's me...It fits!
Because I care enough to feel, I love
Because I love, I'm loved...
Thank You, Jesus for my precious gift!
But I'm human, Lord...
It's not always an easy road
And the load can get awfully heavy
...I sometimes fail...
There's a lot of us, Father
That sit out there and wait
...Wait to be ministered to
This Talent Night.
We come to Your Water to be refreshed
Hoping to leave whole, and at peace, from that well.
Yep, many of us here are just ordinary folk, Jesus
And sometimes we get to wishin' so hard for a way
to share You with others,
That we seem to miss the point...
The point that this gift of LOVE can be withheld from none of us
It's a gift we all can claim and share.
And there's more excuses...
I know, I've used them all.
As the saying goes,
"All you have to do is look for that excuse
and it will surely present itself to you."
But an excuse not to LOVE
Can we really afford an excuse not to LOVE?
As certainly as we all do not posses the same gifts
Just as surely is there one we can,
And definitely must seek to claim as our own.
For this talent is waiting for us all
...To stumble upon...
But the only way it can grow and develop
Is if we prune that even small amount of LOVE we do have
And give it away...
For even though sharing LOVE means sharing ourselves
And that is often difficult and at first uncomfortable...
...LOVE WHEN SOWN, RESEEDS ITSELF FOR ALL ETERNITY...
...COME LET US LOVE ONE ANOTHER, IN HIS NAME
...I love you...
Copyright Dorothy Kraljev 2001, all rights reserved.
This poem may be used free of charge, on the condition that copies are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged to a performance. In exchange, the author would appreciate being notified of any occasion the poem is used in public performance. She may be contacted at: Dorothys223@aol.com