by The Beacon
How good it is that God above has never gone on strike,
Because He was not treated fair in things He didn't like,
If only once He'd give up and said, "That's it, I'm through!
I've had enough of those on Earth, so this is what I'll do,
I'll give my order to the Sun: Cut off the heat supply!
And to the Moon: Give no more light, and run the oceans dry.
Then just to make things really tough and put the pressure on,
Turn off the vital oxygen till every breath is gone!"
You know He would be justified, if fairness was the game,
For no one has been more abused or met with more disdain.
Thank God, and yet He carries on, supplying you and me
With all the favors of His grace, and everything for free.
Men say they want a better deal, and so on strike they go,
But what a deal we've given God to whom all things we owe.
We don't care whom we hurt to gain the things we like;
But what a mess we'd all be in, if God should go on strike.