When I look up from here to there,
To that blessed home on high.
I couldn't help but wonder how
He could love such a one as I. I know I've failed Him many times,
It seems we humans do.
It must be that He loves us so
And forgives us--me and you. I wouldn't be a stranger,
For many I love are there.
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and more,
What stories we'd have to share. But most of all I'd meet Him there,
Arms open, to gather me in.
He'll welcome all who will believe
He died for all their sin. So when at last I travel home,
Across the great divide.
I know that He'll be waiting there
to welcome me inside.

by Eva Wilson

Other poems of EVA WILSON (2)

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