Of no account!
Not much self-esteem!
We feel we’ve accomplished so little.
We look around and see others
Names in lights
The world’s do’ers
And we look at ourselves
Of no account!
Depression sets in
‘Why can’t I?’ we think
We chafe at just being ‘Me’
‘I know that women and just look what she’s done’
So why can’t I!’ we berate ourselves
But our family care
And friends appreciate us, so -
Perhaps of some account?
We pick up God’s word
And what do we read?
‘To me you are precious’ He says
‘What me? – You can’t mean me!
Of no account Me!’
‘Yes’ He replies. ‘And don’t ever think that again
My son died – just for you,
You are of great account – to Me.’
Elizabeth Aynsley ©
