I’m reading Spurgeon’s EVENING BY EVENING as part of my morning devotions. (OK, I just realized that is a little…odd). Anyway, his April 1st ‘posting’ was again sobering for me. He basically is saying time’s short, and getting shorter. There is a “final syllable of grace”. And then…
Many of my ‘poems’ talk about this, I too claim a sense of urgency. As Spurgeon summarizes the stages of life, I’m reminded that I’m ‘elderly’, gray haired, slowing down…all that stuff. Mostly I see myself still in my prime. (I wonder when that was).
But this morning I was reminded that not only am I close to ‘the final syllable’, but maybe one of these poems, or blogs, or rants, or commentaries, or notes… might be someones last syllable of grace they hear.
So I take this seriously. (I’m silly too). I’m getting older. I talk too much. But I do so hope that The Lord use what He wills of me, even if it’s only one syllable. May it be someones Grace Note To Glory.

Are you still counting stitches
“Oh hell yes
I got emotional pus
To prove it”

Looks like an old cloak.
Been wearing it for some time
The weather changes
You wanna look “just fine”

Well, I’ve a nose for such things
Having been stunk myself
I try not to save those grudges
On a rotting emotional shelf

Circumstances accumulate
Choices are dynamic
Forgive and be forgiving
Is the path well lit

Or is the cloak just so familiar
Covering even your eyes
Matches the fashions of the season
Of well colored lies