Sunday June 19, 2016

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away

This is on my Grandfather's tombstone. He died June 22,1941.

It has a stunning effect on me. He took his own life on this day.

I am so desperately sorrowful. I perceive his last moments.

Here is how I envision him on his day of everlasting Glory:

I see him rising fresh-faced from his torment

And hear the flutter of a small dove's wings

Rays of a morning sun seep through leafy boughs, dappling his face --

It is pale, lean, luminescent

There is a light of wonder in his eyes -- drenched by dew, God-sent


tears like sprinkled holy water from a stone baptismal font

My grandfather, young again, his time unspent,

smiles bedazzled as he sees the face of Jesus

He is risen -- risen indeed. Victory!

Thank you Precious Lord

Verne Strickland