Shelf in the Meanwhile

Once, I told God I was just a shelf,
“Feel like I’m just here to display myself,”I said, secretly wishing I could just be dead,
That should’ve been the end, a lot have said,
But He swung down to meet me, said, “But look up ahead,
So what if you’re a shelf? Your old drama’s already fled,
You’re staring at the floor, where your shattered items end,
But you’re forgetting more, that I set you with My hand,
My perfect work, a shelf perhaps, but displayed in My kitchen,
Holding all My precious things, don’t worry about what fell down,
Do you really think I don’t know what my shelves can stand?”

This is dear to me,
That heavenly Father even sees,
Nevermind blesses, redeems,
Strenghtens, esteems,
Never hastens, He’s peace,
Holy Daddy, only blessings He heaps,
Ask Him for a fish, to Him it’s a promise He keeps,
For a stick; it might just be bread for free.
He blesses you and me indiscriminately,
Never bothering to fine you for a fee,
When this life’s already here for Him to set you free.

So let me be divided,
My top from what’s reviled,
Lord, dust me, You know it’s been awhile,
Sweep the shattered pieces if it suits Your style,
But I just wanna praise You in the meanwhile,
Yes, I just want to praise YOU in the meanwhile.

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