A man went inactive from going
To the church that he used to attend
One Sunday he didn’t get ready
Alarming his fam’ly and friends
The pew where he’d sat on the third row
And listened to ward members speak
Now seating a new little fam’ly
While he stayed at home ev’ry week
One ev’ning when it was quite chilly
The bishop knocked on his front door
In hopes he could come up with something
To get him attending once more!
Deducing why Bishop had stopped by
He welcomed him in from the cold
Then they sat down and waited in silence
The shepherd and lamb from the fold
The dance of the flames held their focus
As it flickered and waned on the stone
Then fin’lly the Bishop reached over
To position a coal on its own
He carefully picked up the cinder
With the tongs that were hung on the shelf
Then placed it away from the others
To extinguish, afar, by itself
His host sat in quiet inspection
As the ember diminished and died
And still not one word had been spoken
As they watched that lone ember subside
The clock on the hearth kept on ticking
Being late, Bishop stood up to go
But first he put back the dead ember
And directly, it started to glow
The coal, in the midst of the others
With their brilliance and warmth all around
Effectively told him a story
That once lost he’d now surely been found
Not speaking one word this man’s bishop
With the flame and the light from the coals
Had given a most fiery sermon
On the need for reclaiming lost souls!
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
A man went inactive from going
To the church that he used to attend
One Sunday he didn’t get ready
Alarming his fam’ly and friends
The pew where he’d sat on the third row
And listened to ward members speak
Now seating a new little fam’ly
While he stayed at home ev’ry week
One ev’ning when it was quite chilly
The bishop knocked on his front door
In hopes he could come up with something
To get him attending once more!
Deducing why Bishop had stopped by
He welcomed him in from the cold
Then they sat down and waited in silence
The shepherd and lamb from the fold
The dance of the flames held their focus
As it flickered and waned on the stone
Then fin’lly the Bishop reached over
To position a coal on its own
He carefully picked up the cinder
With the tongs that were hung on the shelf
Then placed it away from the others
To extinguish, afar, by itself
His host sat in quiet inspection
As the ember diminished and died
And still not one word had been spoken
As they watched that lone ember subside
The clock on the hearth kept on ticking
Being late, Bishop stood up to go
But first he put back the dead ember
And directly, it started to glow
The coal, in the midst of the others
With their brilliance and warmth all around
Effectively told him a story
That once lost he’d now surely been found
Not speaking one word this man’s bishop
With the flame and the light from the coals
Had given a most fiery sermon
On the need for reclaiming lost souls!