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MISSIONARY MAN

by Peter Fraser © 1999

MISSIONARY MAN

The call of the Lord resounds in his ears,
It can't be denied, not even with tears,
Brought to a place both foreign and strange,
In the enemies lap no welcome's arranged,
For this is the sharp end of the spiritual war,
Where God works in hearts, like not seen before,
A man with a message, a lifeline to the lost,
He'll spread the good Word whatever the cost.

Though his heart aches for loved ones left far behind,
His best foot goes forward and his nose to the grind,
There's no fancy hotels or familiar smiles,
No collection plate riches to enhance his lifestyle,
He doesn't bring agendas but relies on the Word,
There's no falling gold dust and no laughing is heard,
And he's not too good for the pauper's slum
He will go wherever his Lord says to come.

There are families so poor that they eat from the bins,
They're sheltered by cardboard, propped up by tin,
The children are sick, for medicine is too dear,
The shadow of death like a vulture lurks near,
People squeeze out a living the best way they know how,
There's no plans for the future, only the now,
They'll sell of themselves to secure the next meal,
To the oppression of circumstances their flesh's made to yield.

But this Missionary Man brings a promise that's new,
Reject fate's circumstances and accept Heaven's due,
Open your hearts to acceptance and healing,
Be partakers of a spiritual life more appealing,
No longer be slaves to death and corruption,
Be separate from evil, Satanic eruptions,
Find mercy and love from the act of repentance,
Overcome to escape and eternal death sentence.

So God opens doors and makes his road clear,
And he visits the Saints, both far and near,
The love of the Lord breaks the language barrier,
And the locals flock to hear this Good News Carrier,
As he's a good servant, by example he leads,
He helps those in anguish and feeds those in need,
Where Satan once ruled with a fist of iron,
The Word of God spreads and evil starts dying.
So if you are called to the missions afield,
Get flat on your face before God and yield,
All things that will tie you and limit your use,
In taking the truth to those caught in the noose,
For what task is greater than our great Commission?
Victory can't be achieved through fault or omission,
Be humble, be good and be fools for Christ's sake,
And a lost evil world before you will quake.

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This poem was a finalist in the October 2021 poetry contest

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