The Casting of Pearls
Just a Channel
How much did my talent cost me?
I was just reading an article and even agreed with it, until I realized
how wrong it was. It asked, "What did
you pay to God for your talent?"
My answer to that? I did not pay
anything for mine., but I know I use writings that pass through my
the Lord, who paid it all. There is no way I could pay for it, because
it was a free gift to me, to use in lifting my Savior High for others to
see, and to be drawn to the Lord. for their own Salvation. Yes it was a
free gift to me.
Is your talent paid for? Believe me, it is a gift to you too, for carrying out
a job that has been allotted to you, as a child of The Creator who has
saved you and now has a work for you to do, a work to do for Him. I
look at the many poems that have flown to and from me, from the source
of the talent giver, to the ears of millions of human beings,
I have had this work stolen and rewritten as someone else's creation.
That is alright, because I know and so does God. He knows though who
and why each and every work is made, and who it was meant to bless.
If He knows the hairs of my head are numbered, he surely knows this
also, as it flew about the net, when they copied my work and accredited
"anonymous " .
Like Kenzie, I also agree that many writers are hurt, like when their work
is stolen and someone uses a work as their own writing. But for the
average Joe and Jane, this is the sincerest form
of flattery that any writer can ever have, when their work is so well
liked and has touched someone's heart so much.
They have to
share this blessing with others, yes, it touched a heart and they also,
out of love, want to share it with someone else. So a double or even
triple blessing has come from one work.... I have read my works, as
they come back to me in an e-mail 'forward', and always greet them as they come
in: "Welcome home little wayward children, where have you been? Have
you been a blessing to someone?"
I had to smile when I first started to write. I thought that each and
every word that come from my pen was at the very least a great
'masterpiece' and should be published for all of the world to see. You
see, God works in his mysterious ways. I wonder how many are being
blessed by your works here; I pray that many are blessed and that
you shall never truly know the furthest reach of your works.
You see, each time I lay a new 'baby poem' upon the net, I ask God to
bless it, and ask Him to also let it bare good fruit for Him.
Now that old age has truly mellowed me, I realize that it is the
truth. What I first realized in 1963, when I had two novels
published, should have brought me pleasure beyond my wildest
expectations, but it did not! had this deep misgiving of even
letting 'another work on my writings', and doing them to 'their liking'
I realized then that I had already received my pay, as I was permitted
to write each and every word. Yes, my pay had already been given to me.
Their editing had made it 'OUR' work, instead of the Lord's work, being
done by Him, through me. You see I am unimportant. I am His channel to
flow words through............just as an apple tree bares its fruit on
the limbs (channels) is coming from the source of the supply, from
which it is grounded (the power within the tree!) and even that tree
can not take any credit for not one apple. It simply just holds and
delivers the fruit, when readied for the harvest, to be used my its master.
Just being permitted to write was the pay, from my Lord. Each
writer seems to go through the very same procedure. They write and then
hoard up their writings, then there is the feeling of "I am going
to get rich, one day, from my writings."
Little do they know that, being rich is not in what you 'get'. Riches' are in what
you 'give' away!
It took me a very, very long time, to learn this, the hard way. I now
offer 'this wisdom' to you for free, but I laugh as I also know that
you shall not accept it either. Because it has to be a 'bought lesson' in order to become a
I started to write poetry for the newspapers here about twenty years
ago, and some of the people said (to me in pure shock) "You, are
'giving' your poems away? "
I look them right in the eyes and say "I am sharing what God gives to
me, to share; Should a pastor charge for His inspired sermon? Should a
dedicated to God singer charge and ever receive the worth of a song he
or she has written for the glory of God?"
I say "nay," it is like putting a true price on a piece of artwork done
from the heart. I know that a workman is worthy of His/her hire. But all above the essentials are not warranted (unless, like my
novels, I had published, that all of the proceeds went into God's work into
the building of a fellowship hall for our church)
I figured that I have given over 2,500 poems in the past 20 years and,
like this morning, I could not leave that study table until two more
brand new poems showed up, demanding to be written down. They would not
let me rest until they slid from my pen to the page----and they each
made me cry!
So I will have to get busy to 'dress' them, my new babies for show, in
a few minutes and see? See? There I have next week's column, the one
that I do for the Lord, I am only one of His small channels. Although
it is a minute job, I fit into the body of Jesus Christ. I am a part
of his bride, His church. There are no unimportant jobs for the Lord. Like the human body we are made up of many parts, none is
un-important. Let a toenail get ingrown and infected, and see if the
whole body will come to its aid!
This proves this fact of togetherness works.
I have spent a lifetime working for God, to show Him to others
through my words. Now, May God continue to bless my and your work, as
he already has. May others be touched by the reading of our poems, and
should you want to share, I have one word: 'forward' (via email). But I ask permission from all of the other writers.
They may not have learned this simple truth as yet.....) We are simply
working as channels.
Just a channel.....
© Copyright 2003 jennywren
(pen name) was born on May 21, 1930 in Tennessee.
The youngest of twelve children to Matt and Arizona Rice,
Jenny spent her childhood years in Tennessee and West
When she departs this temporary dwelling and flies, like a
beautiful butterfly, to her Savior's waiting arms.
When He asks her "How did you spend your talent I gave to
She prays as she waits for his reply, will she hear "Well
God has blessed this old Jenny Wren to write poetry and
She prays now to be a blessing on the internet too:
anyone and everyone who gets to know her as Jenny Wren.