SISTER

Dear Lord, I love my sister more than mere words can say.
And yet, I've made her angry telling her of Your way.
She said I was rude to try to share the joy You give.
I am never again to tell: "You died that we might live."
Now, what if she were starving; would she think I was rude,
If I had a pantry full and shared with her my food?

She said I have condemned her in the castle that's her home,
For I quoted "all have sinned", found in Paul's letter to Rome.
She's reading of religions. She's searching, Lord, really.
But Satan's blinded her eyes so that she may not see.
She claims to know the Bible. "Some is false and some is true.
Some of it is history; some superstition, too."
If I studied all my life I'd never be that wise.
Or be able to discern which part was truth; which lies.

Oh, Lord, please forgive me, if truly rude I've been.
I only wanted her to find sweet freedom from all sin.
But she just does not realize the greatest sin of all,
Is refusing Your free gift; when to her heart you call.
You've given me this poem. Lord, I don't know what to do.
I've promised that I'd never speak to her again of you.
Since I cannot speak to her, oh Lord, my prayer will be;
When she looks into my heart let her my Jesus see.


Dawn Tucek©1960