The boy I raise is a Son of The KING:
A boy for whom God plans great things,
Whose destiny is everything
That sons expect from kings.
The boy I raise has been called by God
To love those well who are weak and flawed,
To do great things, though few applaud,
And seek his praise from God.
This boy who started out so small
Now grows into a warrior tall,
But may not prosper in his call,
If I should drop the ball.
The days grow short and quickly pass:
My precious time with him won’t last;
So, early I must help him cast
His hope on Christ, Who holds him fast.
This son of the The KING who lives with me
Must someday face eternity,
Which is each person’s destiny,
As someday all will see.
Lord, help me raise this boy of Yours
To turn away from harmful lures,
To live a life both brave and pure,
And then, again, be Yours.
November 16, 2015
This is the bookend poem for “Baby Lamb” which I posted yesterday.