This Poem was Submitted By: JAMES H SCARBROUGH On Date: 2001-04-09 08:37:19 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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THE INVITATION

The preacher said to me, at the  funeral of an old hunting buddy, "We miss you at the church  and need you in our bible study." "Well thank you sir," I said,  as I reached out to shake his hand. "But I guess I don't conform  and always follow in God's plan." "See, it's not that I'm not religious  because I do believe in God. My not being there Sunday morning's  not a fact you should find so odd." "It just always seemed the devil  could be found lurking in the church. Peering at the congregation for  some lost soul, he could search." "Though I may not seem too righteous  I do worship, on my own accord." Though I might be on a trout stream  I do wade there with the Lord." "God's Sunday baptismal service  is not an experience left unkind. As that cool Sunday morning water  anoints my body, soul and mind." "Guiding me along a river, is a trip  we share and both find pleas'n. He also leads me to the wilderness  through another hunt'n season." "God and I, we stalk together as we  sneak across the field and wood. Though some folks are prone to disagree,  God forgives me as only, He could." "He shows off His creations as  we approach them without warning. We listen to many hymns of songbirds  singing praises Sunday morning." "God listens to me patiently  as I sit in my deerblind and pray. But often pays 'no never-mind' should  I ask that trophies come my way." "God shares these moments everyday  but Sundays, they are the best. They are the most relaxing  as the Sabbath is the day of rest." "So being there in the wilderness  I'm harder for old Lucifer to find. Besides, walking there with the Lord  gives me greater peace of mind." "I'm thankful for God's playground  and I always leave it as a winner. I'm sorry I missed your sermons  meant just for me, the sinner." "But if you really miss me Sunday  mornings, you may join us anytime. I know the Lord will let you tag along  with us, I know that He won't mind."

Copyright © April 2001 JAMES H SCARBROUGH

Additional Notes:
This poem was written about seven years ago following my father-in-laws funeral on Oct 1st, the opening day of archery season. My son and I took to the woods following the ceremony. My son took his bow and I took a notepad. It was written from my deerblind, in reflection of my conversation with the preacher. Later that evening The Invitation was typed to eventually be extended to the reverand with all due respect.


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