While waiting to die,
I live my life,
(I don't know why),
In wasted strife.
I'm called to serve,
But self I render,too oft swerve;
Avoid surrender.
The day will come
And I'll be home,
Excuses dumb,
Before that tome.
Yes I'll be there
(Salvation's sure!),
For though not fair,
The cross; my cure.
Before His throne,
My life reviewed,
I'd be undone,
With so much spewed.
One thing I know:
But for His grace,
The tears that flow
Would stain my face..
No salted stripes
Will last or stay:
My Jesus wipes
Each tear away!
