a poem written by Dr. Jack Hyles
(To My People)
I used to sit in college class,
And ask the sluggish year to pass;
I had a goal to reach.
My mind would soar above the clouds,
And dream when overflowing crowds
Would come to hear me preach.
And now I stand before the crowds,
With mind descending ‘neath the clouds;
My goals are rearranged.
I simply want to fill your need;
So lovingly I gently plead,
‘My dreams have all been changed;
Just let me be your servant.”
Just let me help you rear your young,
And pray for them when life’s begun.
Just let me catch your falling tears,
Alleviate your mounting fears;
And let me share with you my years,
To turn your groanings into cheers;
Just let me be your servant.
Just let me pray when you are ill,
And warm you when life’s air is chill.
Just let me preach and teach the truth,
And let me help you train your youth.
Just let me be there when you’re wed,
And bury your departed dead.
Just let me be your servant.
Just let me sit across from you
When life’s decisions come in view,
To offer counsel and advice,
And point you to a changeless Christ;
Anoint you when you face the knife;
Assure you when you’re bathed in strife.
Just let me weep when you are sad,
And laugh along when you are glad.
Just let me be your servant.
I have no titles I aspire,
Nor honors that I e’er desire.
My name wants no adorning frill;
Just ‘Brother Hyles,” please, if you will;
And let me know the growing thrill —
Of being called your servant.
I claim no fancy pedigree
Or celebrated family tree;
I play no David’s soothing harp;
My singing’s always flat or sharp!
I offer just a raspy voice,
A clearing throat that oft annoys.
I only claim to be sincere;
My only cause for being here
Is just to be your servant.
I cannot offer youthful face;
Nor Dale Carnegie’s polished grace;
But I CAN offer you, my dears,
A love that’s honed by many years
Of toil, and sacrifice, and tears.
Just let me be your servant.
I offer you my days and nights,
And pledge to you to always fight
Against the wrong and for the right!
I cannot be a youthful knight,
But I CAN be your servant.
And if, by chance, my life doth reach
A time at which I cannot preach;
Should failing health, or mind, or voice
Force you to make another choice;
When someone else has filled my place
To speak to you of God’s sweet grace,
Let me still be your servant.
I’ll clean the building where you meet;
Ill shovel snow, or clean the street,
Or drive a bus, or wash the walls,
Or polish floors in all the halls.
With senile mind or palsied hand,
I’ll do the very best I can!
Please — let me be your servant.
And then, when Heaven beckons me,
And my dear Saviour’s face I see;
And when I’m ushered all around
My bright and shining new Hometown,
Who cometh in?” its dwellers ask;
Me hopes my guide will check my past,
Then quietly to my neighbors say,
‘A servant now has come our way.”
And when we’ve lived a million years
In that glad Home which outlaws tears,
I hope my house is right near those
Whom back on earth my Saviour chose
For me to serve, and help and love
And point to Him Who dwells above.
I trust my occupation will
Be that of busy servant still;
And may the Saviour allow me be
Right near the ones who’ve followed me.
I hope I live next door to thee,
So I can be your servant.
Read more poems like this at jackhyleslibrary.com