Saturday, March 14, 2009

Thinking of others first

Driven

Veined hand soothes worn cheek.
Trembling masses await rice currency.
Lined notebooks shout potential.
Quiet dignity follows Christ's advocate.

Mosquitoes dart over tattered sheets.
Sweat beads on tired brow.
Dawn arrives with urgent cries.
Eyes open with feverish vocation.

I wrote this poem after reading about an amazing missionary and her dedication to her work. Missionaries deserve our admiration for their selflessness and love of humanity. They live in such extreme, dangerous circumstances. With pleasant grace, many missionaries still manage to go through each difficult day with a smile for all. They are the forgotten warriors trying to fight terrible odds to help the suffering of this world. I'm in awe of their choice to devote everything to helping others.

8 comments:

Mari said...

Very nice poem - it says a lot~

H.K. said...

You write the way that I hope I can be one day! A very strong poem that describes the work of a missionary very well!

T Rex Mom said...

Very nice - definitely captures what missionaries are about. Thanks for sharing.

shabby girl said...

You're absolutely right! And it's true, in this day and age, we don't hear much about them.
Awesome poem! You captured it.

Joanne said...

It takes a very special strength and heart to be a missionary. What a lovely poem commemorating people who work to make a difference.

Cassiopeia Rises said...

How true. I have know many missionaries over the years. Their work is blessed




love-bd

Judith Ellis said...

Thank you so very much for this post. It is "more blessed to give than receive." If I may, I would like to share with you a post about my experience abroad. I hope it's OK to add this link here on Being Inspired by Others.

This morning while watching C-Span the former Press Secretary, Dana Perino, was speaking about her recent work in South Africa with the Christian faith-based organization, Living Hope, and I thought of this post.

Is there any other kind of hope, save that of the living?

G. B. Miller said...

Very nice poem.

Gets the point across quite well.