A Story in Waiting

I am a story,
left yet to be told.
I sit alone in a basket,
just waiting, to be sold.

If only "somebody" would take the time to read,
they would surely find, that I fill a very
important need.

I wait patiently, twiddling my thumbs,
and in the Lord, I continue to trust,
I know that, in His perfect time,
He shall speak me into "Thus".

He knows I'm sitting here,
high upon this lonely shelf,
He has not forgotten all the hours it took,
and my sacrificial time of Self.

My pages are all crisp and clean,
they never have been turned.
But, oh, the joy, my story will bring,
once that it is heard.

I may gather just a bit of dust,
I may feel rejected and obscure.
But, at that moment, My Lord breathes me into life,
I will FOREVER endure.

I will bring a smile, perhaps, and some sunshine,
across someone's weary face,
Why, I may even bring a tear.
All the emotions, dammed up and spilled forth into words,
will be so wonderfully dear.

My soul will be laid all bare,
my heart, may be opened up wide.
But, it will be worth it all,
when others take a peek,
and see what lies inside.

Sandra Lewis Pringle