SideChick for Jesus

A devotion offered, but the heart still yearns,

For the primary place for which my spirit burns.

I’ve seen the others, the ministries that gleam,

The endless calls that interrupt the dream.

I didn't sign up to wait upon the fringe,

To gather crumbs where richer meals impinge.

To be the afterthought, the candle burning low,

While all the brightest praise to other altars flow.

The altar of the ministry, it stands so tall,

They give their strength, their time, they give their all.

The people’s needs, the urgent, loud demands,

While I am left with dust within my hands.

I am the shadow that the spotlight misses,

Receiving kindness in belated kisses.

They see the role, the title, or the face,

But not the soul that longs for an embrace.

I never asked to be the one set by the wall,

To be replaced by service, answering the call

Of everyone else—the mission and the need—

Planting a harvest where my own seed won't feed.

No, I refuse this leftover allocation,

This quiet corner in the grand creation.

For if the love is true, it cannot be divided,

I seek the first seat, honored and presided.

I ask for fullness, not a hurried glance,

A genuine love, a deep and lasting trance.

I will not be the SideChick for the Lord's renown,

I seek the Bride's reward, the rightful crown.

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