O pilgrim tried, you run the race across the wild frontier. You left the valley of despair and slew the giant of imagined fear.
You ascended slopes of hopeless doubt and ran from temptation's calling. Loss of footing made you slip on condemnation pass, but everlasting arms of love kept your soul from falling.
Through sleepless nights you kept the watch, and waited for the morrow. You choose to not find comfort in the ways that lead to sorrow.
In victory you wield the sword and fight your way through trials that test your faith in Holy God, you learned to conquer idols.
The Holy City waits for you, the streets are paved with gold. The saints who've gone before are there, their epics left untold.
A story true and undefiled you'll bring through heavens gates, in triumph told of His great love and mercy that won't abate.
In song you'll vow to cast the crown down at your saviors feet. You'll find your rest, your spirit blessed made pure by mercy's seat.
So take your place among the heirs of His eternal home. The days of suffering at an end, one word forms on your lips...shalom
- ▼ March (16)