(God’s Sonnet by Timothy J. Verret; “it’s how I cope to hope in being a Jesus Foreigner this daily leavened bread and loving all the differences as they come”)
You are a foreigner; earth not your home.
You’re E.T., wanting to phone home, go back
where you came from, no longer the lone roam.
Hint about your home: Go North! Way Up! Stack!
I am a foreigner; earth is the pits!
I seek a Nation where all live in peace,
where lions lie with lambs, and no one “hits”
another with angry words at increase.
“Love them as yourself; we’re ALL foreigners.”
How silly to say, “You don’t belong here!”
None of us belong here! There’re no corners
to go to. Jesus IS Home. God: Top Tier.
“A little while longer, you deep mourners,”
speaks God. “For now, though, Jesus Foreigners.”
It’s so easy to feel foreign, even in one’s own skin.
LikeLike
ESPECIALLY in one’s own skin, I say, Dag!
LikeLike