November 16, 1985

I have a treasure box where I keep well, treasures. If I were to let you look in my treasure box you would find sweet notes from my husband, letters from my mother, my grandmother's Bible study notes, some of her poems, pictures my children drew for me when they were young, cards and notes they'd written to me as well, and now pictures and notes from my granddaughter. I found a poem I'd written on the date you see above. I'm not a poet by any stretch of the imagination. It's the only poem I remember writing as an adult. It's not very good. I was twenty-seven when I wrote it. Eighteen years prior to that I heard the gospel and understood the word of truth. I was in a neighborhood Good News Club. I'd grown up in church since birth, hearing the gospel often, while in Sunday School, church, and VBS. But it was at that Good News Club that the Lord removed the blinders and the glory of Christ shone in my heart. I immediately went home and told my mother and grandmother. Soon after I was baptized. I remember being very frightened when I was beckoned down those steps and into the water. I was crying. I did not want to go. My grandmother spoke softly into my ear, reassuring me everything would be ok. After a couple of minutes I finally did go down those steps but I really don't remember anything else. In my twenties I had a growing desire to be baptized again. It would be a joyous occasion without fear and with complete understanding as to its meaning. I think I wrote this poem around that time. Before salvation we are dead in our trespasses and sins. When God causes us to be born again, we are raised with Christ, we are raised in newness of life.

Bound in chains, a child of wrath
A child of Satan was I
Death's cold grip, strong and secure
Surely around me did lie.

Able only to serve the Angel of Light
His temptations glistening strong
Lead by my lusts, deceitfully bright
I thought I could do no wrong.

Then the Ancient of Days, full of grace and truth
Revealed my sin and shame
Mercy was mine, forgiven and cleansed
No longer crippled and lame.

Placed in the heavenlies, a recipient of grace
No ill can I longer afford
A new path to walk, I must embrace
Glory now belongs to the Lord.

For I am called to proclaim His wonderful might
A royal priest am I
No longer in darkness, but showing forth His light
Giving all glory to Him on high.

It must have ended up in my treasure box because of my Greatest Treasure, my Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.