When breath is gone and mortal life is done
How precious will that moment be to Thee,
As spent and bruised my finished race is run,
Collapsing in Your arms in victory.
But crowns and garlands I do not deserve,
For truly it was Christ who bore me through.
In spite of flimsy flesh and failing nerve
Your Spirit worked within to make me new!
At times I wondered if the cost so dear
Against my flesh were truly worth the prize.
Yet now beholding You suddenly near
Hath destroyed doubt and caused my joy to rise!
From here the trials were transient, short and light.
My joy is full as faith gives way to sight!
Jonathan D. Eller
Monday, September 29, 2008
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