The Pilgrim’s Journey – a poem
Whatever did a wretch like this
To merit such a joyful bliss?
Truly, nothing, my hand brings,
Simply to the Cross it clings.
My confidence rests in the Lord,
The God-man who has saved the world.
He lived, and died, and conquered death,
And purchased me – my every breath.
Oh, may our grace-filled hearts so long
To praise His name in truth and song.
Creation waits to be set free;
Decay won’t reach eternity.
‘Sin and Death’ – you’ve lost, it’s done.
You’ve been defeated by the Son.
He’s coming. Yes, the Day is soon.
The Church awaits the sweet Bridegroom.
And when we’re gathered with Him, home,
We’ll cry: Glory is to God alone.