OH THOU ROD
Oh thou rod of my chastening,
Thou, art a creation of my erring,
Yea, a child of my disobedience:
I long to break thy expedience?
If thou gettest into God's hand,
'Tis my wrongs 'at stir the demand:
God's primitve hand hath only oil,
Yea, soothing and to friction foil!
If in backsliding I abide and live,
Surely, this will keep the rod alive:
But if of my apostacy I do repent,
His rod'll be shreded and spent!
Up then, all of me: soul, and body,
Stretch every vein within thee
In the school of obedience in Christ:
By this, the voice of rod is silenced!
But praise God for His rod, dear,
For our souls' maladies it is near,
curing us of them: making us ready
For duty and our home heavenly!
-Ojoje Adeyi(A bruised reed