Carpenter working, sun up to sun down
Roman soldiers commanding more stakes, to be found
Christians to die on Golgotha’s hill
Your job is to give me more wood, from your mill
I cannot do this thing you ask
My hands only work for my God and His task
Then at your word you’ll see your last
You’re a carpenter, will this be you’re past…
You want me to give you a stake for my son
No!
This shall never be done…
And if you hang me, on a cruel tree
My God in heaven will set me free…
I am a carpenter, but I don’t work for thee!
By: Marla Shaw O’Neill 9.20.2015©
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