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THE POET'S
CORNER
HEAVEN'S TROOPS ARE COMING HOME
Soon
we'll hear the Trump of God,
"Swing
the Gates of Heaven wide!"
The
Savior's troops are coming home
And
can't wait to come inside.
They've
been recalled by our Savior,
Royal
Commander-in-chief.
"Come
home, my blood-bought warriors.
Stand
down, you're on relief."
I have
a place prepared for you
On a
golden street so fair.
Loved
ones who've preceded you
Wait to
give a welcome there.
There'll be no more broken bodies.
No more
suffering without a cure.
We,
once battle-scarred and weary,
Find
ourselves in bodies new and pure.
Our
"vile bodies will be changed
Like
unto His glorious one."
"Whereby he subdues all things."
"In a
moment," it will be done!
Angels
line the streets rejoicing
As we
lay our backpacks down.
We will
trade the noise of battle
For a
Soul Winner's Crown.
All the
active duty soldiers
Will be
glad they chose to serve.
They'll
get gold...and precious stones.
Not so,
for the Reserve.
They,
who were the last to enlist:
Or,
declined to join the fray;
Or,
even "pass the ammunition,"
To send
the Gospel on its way.
Ashamed; but, welcome in Heaven,
Those
who've only just believed.
Salvation requires no works at all,
God's
Eternal Life they've received.
Their
works of "wood...and stubble,"
Won't
stand the judgment pyre.
They'll
go up in a puff of smoke,
They're
still saved; "yet...as by fire."
Soon
we'll gather 'round the Throne
With
loved ones waiting there.
The
time of weeping will be over.
The
time of joy will now be here.
We'll
fall down at our Savior's feet,
The One
who paid Redemption's price;
We
could not even be in Heaven
Without
His Perfect Sacrifice.
But,
for now...the battle's not over,
The
trump did not sound on high.
Let's
not "be weary in well-doing";
Signs
show the time is drawing nigh.
We know
the Lord comes quickly,
And He
will call His Armies home.
"
Caught up" to meet him in the air,
"Even
so, Lord Jesus, Come."
Marjorie A. Younce
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