Skip to main content

Our Blessed Hope. An End-Times Poem.

 



Our Blessed Hope



My feet are lifting off the ground,

I hear the clearest trumpet sound


Around me, others fly away,

rejoicing on this glorious day


We leave the chaos down below,

and all the evils of our foe


We fly to Jesus through the air,

Our loving Bridegroom's over there


Away we go to heavenly home,

to gather all round Father's throne


A day of rejoicing has begun,

as we praise Father, Spirit, Son


Then day of dread falls on the earth,

but we are saved through second birth


For seven years our Father hides,

His Son's redeemed and spotless bride


When all is done on earth below,

Following Jesus, down we'll go


Once Jesus the evil one firmly has bound,

The Millenial Kingdom will be found


At the end of this, Armageddon will come,

All evil destroyed from under the sun


We will live forever on new heaven and earth,

Praising the Lamb for His matchless worth,


Ever


Praising the Lamb for His matchless worth


Ever 


Praising the Lamb for His matchless worth.


p.i.H.H


(Free to use. Give credit.)


"For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a loud cry of summons, with the shout of an archangel, and with the blast of the trumpet of God. And those who have departed this life in Christ will rise first.

Then we, the living ones who remain [on the earth], shall simultaneously be caught up along with [the resurrected dead] in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air; and so always (through the eternity of the eternities) we shall be with the Lord!

Therefore comfort and encourage one another with these words."

1 Thessalonians 4: 16-17

(Amplified version)


Please share. :)


🌻🌻🌻


Photo credit: Nick Scheerbart. Unsplash.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Conversation. A Free Short Story

  The Conversation  Gavin was so absorbed in his book, that he barely noticed that the train had stopped at a station. "Mind if I sit here?" He looked up. A young woman with friendly freckles across her nose and wide brown eyes stood in the aisle. He nodded, then smiled faintly and she quickly stowed her large backpack. "I'm Sybil." The young woman offered. "Thanks." "No problem. Travelling to Barton?"  "Nope. It's Dunmore I'm headed for. You?" "Same." Gavin was cautious. He wasn't sure he felt like a chatty companion. He'd been looking forward to finishing his book. It had hooked him from the first chapter. But thankfully, Sybil didn't bubble on. She just smiled before taking her own book out.  Gavin went back to his reading, not without noticing that it was a Bible that Sybil had opened. Unusual.   Sybil glanced towards him. She liked to study people, and would often strike up a conversation in the ho...
Post a Comment
Read more

Not Much Time. Free Short Story.

  Years have gone by, yet the phone call still plays clear as a bell in my mind. "He needs to come home. Please tell him. There isn't much time." The thin, frail voice of the caller lent weight to the urgency of her call. No, there couldn't have been much time. "Daddy, a lady called. An old lady. She said there isn't much time." I tiptoed up to his armchair. I spoke softly, hesitantly. I was only a child, and I knew nothing of his past. "She says, she says, you must go home." "No!" The armchair shook with the force of his rage. "No! And don't talk to that woman again."  No further calls came from the frail-voiced lady. At least, not that I know of. *** Daddy was nearing the end. The end of a long, long battle. I was in my forties, married, and with children of my own. "Who was she Daddy?" I asked gently, hoping with God's help to bring him to a place of peace and forgiveness. But his face tightened and he t...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Bright Tale: A Story For Young People As Well as For The Young At Heart

  A Bright Tale A Story for young people, (+- 10-14) and the young at heart By Alison Lawrence Introduction Before commencing our tale, I would like to give you a short tour and overview of Brightston. I am sure that you would like to picture it as clearly as possible, and so, I will do my best to do it justice. It won’t be easy though, for Brightston is a very special place, as you shall see. First, we shall start at the centre of Brightston, which is a bit like travelling to Jerusalem if you were on our planet. Well, right at the centre of Brightston, is a city called the Golden City. It is so called for it is made of gold. Yet, dear reader, it is not the gold which brings illumination, although it does gleam wonderfully. No, it is the king of Brightston himself who radiates light throughout his kingdom. The king, who is very, very holy, and very, very good, has several beautiful names, but he is known everywhere in Brightston as simply the King of Truth, for this is the es...
Post a Comment
Read more