Pity Party

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!