I felt the Lord calling me
But I didn't know what to say
If I agree to follow you
I must give all I own away
Well I have worked very hard
For everything I possess
To minister to the lazy
Because they have much less
It doesn't make sense to me
To keep giving to the poor
It will never be enough
They just come back for more
Comfort the ill and dying
Appears to be a lost cause
Surely I belong in a pulpit
Surrounded by an applause
Take bibles to prisoners
After what they have done
There has to be a desk job
A paid charity I could run
I couldn't be a missionary
And dwell in a foreign land
Or volunteer after church
My Sunday is already planned
Dear Lord, I do love you
As I pray to you every night
But what you are asking me
I don't feel that this is right
I treat most all people kind
Always tithe my ten percent
Maybe I misunderstood you
This was never what you meant
©S. Austin Vincoski
