Unshakeable - A Poem

When the sun set on beautiful Westpoint,

Our last song felt heavy to me.

Paths that had led Commission to this point;

Looking back with slide show memories.

Rose coloured I remember the sunshine,

Though cold were the nights in the tent.

Children catching their feet in the guy lines,

Parents huddled round stoves with backs bent.

The smells be they bacon or shower gel,

Puffy eyed parents slurping their tea,

Queues to the shower blocks quickly swell

Grimaced smiles, pretenders of happy.

Parents hold hands of dubious children,

Youth womble and bumble to marquee.

Adults quickly grab coffee on their run;

A seminar seat not guaranteed.

Flags flutter in time with our worship,

Enter young and old through gateway of praise.

Challenged by speakers, that stir up

Disciples that correctly number our days.

Oh yes! Westpoint saw much of God’s grace,

Salvation to hundreds of lives.

Spirit encounters felt like Jesus face to face,

His mission the soil where church thrives.

So what you may ask of the future?

Commission Festival twenty three.

Will it be the same, poorer or richer?

What’s in it for just little me?

We gather, in times of great shaking.

We gather, a new chapter to write. 

We gather, a people making history.

We gather, as family to unite.

Why oh why do we gather,

But for an audience of one.

In our sacrifice we encounter;

Father, Spirt and glorious Son.