The Garbage Truck

THE GARBAGE TRUCK The man had left for work that day as he had oft before To gather things folks threw away--it was a messy chore. He picked up all the trash and things along his daily route And loaded them upon the truck while someone helped him out. He never dreamed that day he left that I’d be passing there, A man who once had served the Lord and with His people shared. But I had grown rebellious to the standards and the rules, And I struck out on my own way when I was through with school. Oh, I thought I was having fun and doing as I willed, And I thought that the voice of God my conscience now had stilled. Now my life was collecting trash, just like that truck out there, It really didn’t bother me; I really didn’t care. Then suddenly that truck and I met in a gruesome way, And I was injured seriously, and in a bed I lay. I looked down and a leg was gone, and suddenly I knew That God allowed us there to meet to get His message through. He didn’t want me, like that truck, to fill my life with trash, And so He caused our routes to cross there in that awful crash. I wept with tears, repenting there, of wasted years and days; I vowed to God right there and then I’d give Him all my ways. I’m sorry that it cost a leg to hear His gentle voice, But I am sure He showed me then my foolish, selfish choice. That garbage truck will still drive on, its job to daily do, But I will be like it no more--with that life I am through! Some day when I have both my legs and run on heaven’s street, I’ll thank my Saviour for that day when that truck I did meet, And for the lesson that I share from that day’s awful crash: It’s not worth filling your life with the world’s sinful trash.