This is a poem I wrote reflecting on my life as a pastor.
My thoughts circle in my head while I should be asleep in bed.
Now to rest should I retreat to pillow soft and wife so sweet?
Even then my head would spin for all the things I hold within.
Tonight I strain to understand what it means to trust your hand.
“He leadeth me”, I hope and pray. In His will I mean to stay.
I do not know; don’t have a clue; there’s so much left for me to do.
Calls come in, the phone to ring, “I won’t be there, can you sing?”
Some one’s sick and fading fast, today may be her very last.
There are so many pains and joys, each day new task to me employs.
I am so tired and need some grace; oh Lord help me to run the race.
The call so sweet the work so tough, will my faith be enough?
Help me Lord to lift your name, or else I’ll fall deep into shame.
I’m a pastor of your flock, the keys of your kingdom they will unlock.
Come today oh Lord, oh King, let me hear that trumpet ring.
I need your grace, You will sustain my fallen self so filled with pain.
God almighty you are so true! I will suffer: all for you!
By: Brayden L. Buss