The Guest 

The Guest 

Tuesday’s Column: Dale Mail

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Dale Pollard

A knock came on my door one day, I opened and it was Sin
Before that moment we hadn’t met, but still I let him in
He made me laugh, and seemed alright
so I let him stay a night

As host, I tended his every need
though he was quite a mouth to feed
He was entertaining
so he kept remaining—
With me, another day

One evening he sat at my table and dined

but late that night he robbed me blind

In an empty house I sat alone
The tears welled up, I should have known

Sin ate his fill against my will,

and now I’m skin and bone

Then again I heard a knock on my door

Reluctant was I to rise from the floor
If a guest, they can’t stay here anymore

the previous left me dejected and poor

But again and again
came the knock on my door
So timidly I answered,

but only opened it so wide

and there stood Jesus waiting,

on the other side

I had nothing left to give Him, nothing left to eat—
Yet He came inside,then got down, and began to wash my feet
He told me I could live with Him, for He had many rooms
No pain was there at His house, and the flowers always bloom
Could this be true what I was hearing—
I longed for nothing more
Then Jesus smiled and gently said—
this offer is for you and all
who open up the door
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2 thoughts on “The Guest 

  1. Neal/Dale, Thanks for sharing this. What a great article, Dale. Keep up the good work! I plan to share this with the folks at Karns. Thanks!

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