it’s not for me

my gift is not for me
not for that empty spot on my trophy shelf
not to keep me company
when i’m lonely

it’s not for holding so tight it’s crushed and ugly
or for hiding in a closet where it gets musty and moldy

it’s for fitting together with all the rest
as though part of a body Lego
forming as one to function
as our God surely knows best

it doesn’t puff out its chest or compare itself
showing the bitter side of pride
it doesn’t waste much time in the mirror
asking its reflection why

the better part of each day it spends
in deepest gratitude
looking forward to each turn of the road
as it winds and wends

© Joel Tipple
#24/14