Frank’s Story

Frank started with pennies, with pockets near bare,
With forty a week and much more he would share.
Half went to family, the rest stretched out thin—
Yet discipline whispered, “That’s where you begin.”

Frank drove with ten dollars a month on his ride,
And gas for mere pennies would carry his stride.
No shortcuts or secrets, no glittering scheme—
Just effort that rose to the height of a dream.

Frank worked in the numbers, in business and code,
Where steady provision would lighten the load.
But deep in his heart was a calling untold—
A story of truth that was burning like gold.

“I hated this writing!” he often has said,
Yet something kept knocking inside his head.
So line after line, through struggle and strife,
He wrote a great story about Jesus and life.

An Eyewitness telling, both simple and clear,
For those who’d but had never drawn near.
Not just what was spoken, but what it all meant—
A Savior who came with a purpose well sent.

Frank directed a conference ten years and more.
With writers and dreamers, he opened the door.
Through sermons and studies and words finely spun,
He helped others finish what they had only begun.

Like plates in the air that a juggler must tend,
His projects kept spinning with no certain end.
Yet each one held purpose, each title a thread,
Of truths to be written, of lives to be led.

Then came a report that would stop many cold—
Three cancers, two weeks… or at least he was told.
But strangely, he smiled at what others might fear,
For God was still writing. Yes, God was still near.

Through doctors and hallways, weakness and pain,
His words found new places, again and again.
A message was carried where he would not go—
Through trials, his stories continued to grow.

Now daily he writes with a verse and a rhyme,
Still faithful, still steady, redeeming the time.
For life is not measured by comfort or ease—
But by seeds sown and the souls that they please.

So what will you write when your pages are few?
What story is waiting to be told through you?
For whether in plenty or pressed by the test—
The words that endure are the ones Spirit-blessed.