Ujamaa Christian Poetry

Sit Here Under My Footstool

James 2:1-9

She comes to church in shabby clothes
So wanting to fit in,
But to most, she is invisible
And is pushed aside again.

"Stand over there," they seem to say
As they rush to those--their kind--
Or "Sit here under my footstool,"
"And be quiet, if you don't mind."

She doesn't drive a fancy car.
Her speech to some seems crude.
And those who do not know her
Might even think she's rude.

She loves the Lord and tries so hard
To please Him day by day,
But the hoity-toity in the church
Keep pushing her away.

You can see the hurt upon her face
If you take the time to look;
She tries and tries to mask the pain,
But her face is an open book.

The only thing that gets her through
Each put-down as it comes
Is knowing that the Lord is there
Through each and every one.

In His eyes, she is a Princess,
And one of His elite!
She'll fare much better than others
When she stands at His Judgment Seat.

He's seen each slight and knows the hurt
And will bless her so much more,
As He gives her heaven's great rewards
When she reaches that far shore!

And forever she will live with Him
With joy upon her face.
When she gets Home she'll only hear,
"Sit thou here in" this "good place!"

'Til He comes!

Written by Jerrie Boos


Ujamaa Christian Poetry