Poetry

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T'was a rugged road He did travel, to a hill called Calvary
With a cross on His shoulders, Which He bore for you and me
When the cross became too heavy, that He fell beneath the load
There was one who bore it for Him Up that long and dusty road

There's a cross we each must carry, To be called His very own
We must carry it so gladly, T'll the victories all are sewn
All of self and sin denying, following Him day by day
He will never ever leave us As we follow all the way

Don't you hear the Savior calling, To follow Him today
Won't you heed His gentle pleading, Do not turn Him away
Come now before Him bowling, All your sins to Him confess
On Him lay your every burden, He will surely give you rest.

Before retirement, I traveled many rugged roads throughout the Appalachian Mountains. Sometimes, whispering a prayer as I went, asking, " Lord, where are the guard rails"?

And WHATS SO AMAZING, He would have traveled that same road to Calvary, if I had been the only soul that needed saving.

The old gospel song states, "There's room at the cross for you. Tho millions have come,. There's still room for one-. Yes, there's room at the cross for you"..

HAVE YOU TRAVELED UP THAT ROAD TO MEET HIM?

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