In my house are many rooms where I may live and thrive.

But two stand out as special rooms, for Him they glorify.

One room is bare, kept clean for prayer.  The other is kept for man.

In one my anxious heart is healed.  The other for words to send.

A path between the two is worn; a richly trodden way.

This is the path I’ve taken thrice, this wondrous golden day.

The room of send abounds with shelves, and a pile upon the floor.

The shelves contain the rarer words.  The pile I use the more.

What words appeal?  What words reject?  What words will action bring?

My fingers scurry through the mess to cause your heart to sing.

” Praise God all creatures big and small.  Adore his Holy name.  His righteousness and mercy sent has saved my soul from shame!”