I’m small. Could be seen as insignificant.
I’m just a couple of letters stringed together.
Well, stringed is not really the word.
Typed is more like it.
You have options with me?
You could crumple me up and shoot for the waste basket in the corner.
But you only should put baby there, not me.
If you and I parted ways. I’d hope you’d recycle me.
I could go back into the “system”
And go for round two
Hopefully, making a difference the next time.
There is wisdom laid upon me.
Don’t miss it.
Take me home.
Leave me where other family members may peruse my paragraphs.
Maybe I’m what they’ve been looking for, who knows?
Or take me to your office.
There may be a colleague who needs my words…
I’m light. you can carry me.
Fold me up, put me in your pocket.
But don’t let me stay there.
You can’t share me in the modern ways, via Twitter or Facebook or something.
But that’s okay…
I still have value.
I’m not just a little piece of paper.
My words, read my words!
Oh my word! Am I getting through to you? …
This story inspired by these words printed on a piece of paper:
“But, Jesus I’ve fallen
I don’t mind the rain if
I meet my maker
I’ll meet my maker clean
But, Jesus the truth is
I’ve struggled so hard to believe
I’ll meet my maker
I’ll need my maker
To cure of my doubting blood
And drain me of the sins I love
And take from me my disbelief
I know it should come easily
But it remains inside of me
It battles and devours me
It cuddles up the side of me
And whispers it convinces me I’m right” Dashboard Confessional
I lived in Bicester (UK). I ran a cell group for high school teens. This one guy arrived as we were ending of that particular meeting. I handed him a piece of paper with these lyrics (that song we had looked at that night). I told him to YouTube the song. He did. Two weeks later, he was baptized. The power of God. He will even use a piece of paper…