With My Hand I Set This Pen
With my hand I set this pen,
With full knowledge of the Author,
For great words flow only from the great,
And the pen and the hand only follow.
So it is with God and me—
He speaks, I write,
He wrenches me, I feel,
He informs me, I transmit.
I am but a twig used to beat a rug,
I am dung used to fertilize,
I am water flowing downward,
I am in my place.
If the twig is broken, there is another,
Who considers dung at harvest time,
Who sees the water in an irrigated field,
And yet there was a time and a need.
So it is to be with my God and me.
I shall pass through a time of life,
And He may need me then.
If He calls, I am here—to be used
And used again.
But when it’s over, it’s over for me,
While He continues supreme,
But He will remember—a time and a call,
And that’s enough for me.