Today we have a guest post from Essie-Marie Weigt.
No diversion or duality.
Life is a fading vapor,
and we are crumpled up, like paper.
Do we think of the Cross
as we watch the clock?
The hands march,
staunch and starched,
‘round the sphere, through the arch.
They may stand still,
but their message will
march on, for good or for ill.
I wonder if my witness spells
out the urgency of heaven and hell.
I have so little to give;
A drop in the ocean, what I have to live.
I was meant to love and forgive.
Have I done what I was redeemed for?
Have I measured up? What’s the score?
It’s not even close.
I suppose the number should be some kind of joke,
but no, let it soak in.
All the times you lost, didn’t win.
When you felt the urge to tell,
but slew it and ignored the bell,
tolling judgement on that poor soul.
You could’ve said something, could’ve told
them of a love so insane,
of how you resisted, but He loved you anyway.
It’s worth being called sick in the brain
when an innocent deity was slain
for your vile hide;
Don’t you know it should’ve been you that died?
Think about that
the next time you see Buddhists praying on their mats,
Or hear a shofar’s solemn blast.
It’s not just their culture;
It’s a path to their sepulchres.
Their destination is one of burning;
Horrid screams, stomachs churning.
They meet their fate, every day.
You were there once, but since it’s not you today
I suppose you’ll just keep walking away.
Essie-Marie Weigt is an 18-year-old Canadian who loves the Lord, writing, and spending time with her friends. She is a freshman at Liberty University and is pursuing a degree in psychology. Her ultimate goal is to show others the love of Christ in in every aspect of life, including writing.