The Gift

The gift of tongues can be controversial across Christian denominations. I make no comment on this controversy, this poem simply records my personal conflicts in 1996.

Give me, oh Lord, a language

That I may worship you,

And speak to You in the Spirit

As other Christians do.

And yet I can’t demand it

It’s Your gift to bestow.

Amidst all my confusion,

The truth You only know.

I don’t know why I seek it,

To honour You or me,

But though my mind’s in turmoil,

Deep in my heart You see.

If truly pure my motives

Despite my own unrest,

Your Holy Spirit will grant it

For He alone knows best.

He knows the truest reasons

I seek this gift to find,

I struggle with my motives

Confusion wracks my mind.

I know that all my striving

Will help me not one jot,

Yet find it such a struggle,

To hand to Him the lot.

I back off in a corner,

Step forward once again

If only heart could conquer

The workings of the brain.

I know my Father loves me

I know I doubt it too.

I wish that I could let Him

Do what He wants to do,

I love Thee Holy Spirit,

When I am feeling brave.

You turn my eyes to Jesus

Who died my soul to save.

One gift is not important

Another to dismiss,

You gifted me with poetry

And poems such as this.

Help me; oh Lord, to be content

With gifts that You would choose,

And not go chasing other dreams,

Lest what I have – I lose.

© Ailsa Yates /8/96