Here's another poem I wrote 2 years ago. I wanted to send this yesterday, but didn't have internet access. The only thing that keeps me from looking at death as a tragedy is when that person goes home to meet the Lord.
Consider the idea of a YOUNG PERSON sitting in the backseat of a vehicle, going with their parents on a long journey to a place they have been looking forward to being at for some time.
Now compare to that, an OLDER PERSON, not that it has to be an older person, who has been on their journey through life for some time now. They know Jesus Christ as their Savior. They have heard of the joys of heaven, and all the blessings as well, and though they have never been there, they still anticipate the wonder of what it will be like. In each regard they would say the same thing on the way... "ARE WE THERE YET?"
A poem in memory of Grandpa
Are We There Yet?
You spoke of how you wanted here
to see your Savior, Christ.
You couldn’t wait this pain to end,
and feel with His great might.
From the end of your days,
you knew the path
would soon bring joy to you;
so thoughts were often on this hope,
and words of body new.
Where your mind was stayed,
it was quite clear;
you spoke of that which was quite dear.
Like a little child wondering when
we’d get to our place sweet…
Inpatient til’ the day would come
and Jesus there you’d greet.
It could not come soon enough,
if ever time could waver.
But now I know that you are glad,
for all God’s wonders you savor.