Pity Party

Written by: Clarence Billheimer

I had the decorations each hung up there to see,
The music I had chosen was in the minor key.
The lighting was quite special--not bright, but very dim
To greet each one who came there as they came walking in.
I sent out invitations to everyone I knew
Each printed in plain letters on paper colored blue.
I sat there now just waiting for the first ones to show,
So sure that to my party so many want to go.
But I sat there so lonely, and full of bitter tears
That in my pity party no one had joined me here.
And now as I sat sulking in my dark room alone
With no one there to join me to hear me cry and moan,
I didn’t enjoy my party like I was sure I would;
If only others joined me, I thought it would be good.
But as I opened letters of their RSVP,
And I read all their reasons they could not be with me,
It seemed they had their problems much greater than my own,
They didn’t want my party where I would make mine known.
Then came that final letter, a page of golden hue
That seemed to come from heaven or somewhere beyond the blue.
It was a simple picture:  a man upon a tree,
So beaten and so bloody, not a nice sight to see.
His outstretched hands were held there by two old rusty nails,
And crowds below were watching; with voices they did rail.
I cried then as I saw Him bear all my pain and sin
And asked Him to forgive me and bring me peace within.
Then, as I prayed, my party seemed such a waste and sham
As I thought about that Savior, God’s precious, dying lamb.
I changed the decorations, the music now was bright,
The room that once was dismal now shone with brilliant light.
My pity party’s over; come now, my friends, and see
What this great, precious Savior did for a soul like me!