These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

“When’s He Gonna Get Here?”

Sometimes when I was just a child,
my daddy had to leave,
and go some place away awhile,
importance to achieve.

Some work when there, that needed done,
he’d do with joy so quick,
returning then to his dear son,
me in his arms he’d pick.

But when I knew, “He’s coming home,”
throughout the day I’d fret,
“So, when’s he gonna be here, Mom?”
“Just play awhile, and sit.”

He always came home, after awhile,
and happy I would be,
for waiting is a certain trial
as every ‘child’ can see.

But Dad has passed, and Mom has, too,
and they’re not coming back,
‘til the shout is heard, and the trumpet blew
when abundance fills our lack.

Again, I’m waiting every day,
until Jesus raptures His Bride
when all, who sit at His Table may
fore’er in Him abide.

“So, when’s He gonna get here?” cries
my heart’s impatient plea.
Until that moment, oft it sighs,
“With You I’d always be.”

by Jay O’Toole
on September 30th, 2024