I don’t know how to say it, but somehow it seems to me,
that maybe we are stationed where God wants us to be;
that the little place I’m filling is the reason for my birth,
and just to do the work I do, He sent me down to earth.
If God had wanted otherwise,
I reckon He’d have made me just a little different,
of a worse or better grade;
and since God knows and understands all things of land and sea,
I fancy that He placed me here, just where He wanted me.
Sometimes I get to thinking, as my labours I review,
that I should like a higher place with greater things to do;
but I come to the conclusion, when the envying is stilled;
that the post to which God sent me is the post He wanted filled.
So I plod along and struggle in the hope, when the day is through,
that I’m really necessary to the things that God wants to do;
and there isn’t any service I can give, which I should scorn,
For it may be just the reason God allowed that I be born.
This is another poem that I have found. I have to admit that at times I feel like I am not doing enough, and this poem reassures me that I am doing exactly what I am meant to do, no matter how insignificant it may seem. Sometimes we fail to realize how our small gestures cause radiating ripples in the pond we call life.