Poetry

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This Time I Need You to Stay
(Based on the account of a truly Christlike Christian I knew)
by Patricia Backora: author of: Tough Love in Christ’s Millennium
order online from: http://publishamerica.com


The Glory filled the temple of clay
In whose midst the Lord was enthroned;
The pilgrim was just a-passin’ through
Doing God’s work on his way home.
His first thought was as each new sun rose:
Lord, how can I please You today?
What may I do to glorify You?
May I be used to dry a tear
To share a burden
To break bands of darkness
To still wild seas of fear
To befriend the friendless
To be a voice for You
To tell them You came to heal and to bless?

Though his tabernacle trembled
With impending mortality,
The Glory within ageless and eternal
Empowered the vessel unfailingly;
Bearing him up on Eagle’s Wings
This dove so harmless, yet so strong;
Though mortal flesh strained, the Glory remained;
God’s love never ceased from him to pour.
The tabernacle frail was shaken so sore;
How could the Pilgrim endure anymore;
How could his soul not flee from the pain?

One day God’s faithful Dove took his flight;
His tabernacle lay spent and still.
He ascended with joy to his Father’s land;
This faithful, Christlike, enduring man.

He knew the lightness of blest release;
A mantle he wore of pervading peace.
The Dove was lifted on angel’s wings;
He could hear from afar sweet choirs sing:
All hail to the Lamb Who sits on the Throne;
Give glory to the Lord of Hosts!

Soaring upward, he was bathed in bright light;
A light so intense the sun seemed like night.
Then he saw a most wondrous thing:
Towering pearls of dazzling white
Guarded by sentinels with vigilant eye.

Tenderly smiling upon the Dove,
They welcomed him through the Pearly Gates,
That he might proceed to the City of Love.

In rapturous wonder he approached fields of green;
O the blissful, tranquil scene!
Of deep emerald hue each grassy blade
Unbruised, unblemished , was perfectly made.
Such was the Meadow of God’s Delight
Arrayed in Glory unspeakably bright

Unfading flowers perfumed the air;
Blooms bedecked in colors so fair
That Solomon’s robes were but sackcloth compared.

The beauty and joy and rapture of all
Surveyed by the jubilant homecoming Dove
Exceeded the powers of mere tongue to tell
The fathomless mysteries of heavenly love.

Unfettered by mortal body of woe;
Untroubled by the cares of clay;
Childlike he laughed and leaped and played.
Upon his shoulders no heavy load
His steps unhindered by sorrow’s groan;
No trials to cast their shadow of gloom.

He ran, rejoiced , oh so merrily;
As one who’d come alive
The Son had set his spirit free
To be in a shadowless Paradise.
No songs were ever sweeter
Than the trills of the gorgeous birds in the sky
Who extolled in melodic praise
The Majesty of their Creator.

The Pilgrim shouted praise to the Lord
Who’d brought him to this hallowed shore.
It was almost too lovely to bear:
This place of beauty beyond compare.

Celestial treasures were everywhere:
Murmuring brooks with pure water so clear;
Sands of rare jewels formed the river beds;
Birds of rich plumage soared overhead;
Sweet hymns wafted through the balmy air;
Sung by the citizens of yon city so fair.
The Pilgrim laughed in ecstasy:
Oh, Praise the Lord! exulted he.

He began to glimpse God’s Glory
Off in the distance he spied a Great Hill
Crowned by the Celestial City of Light.
The Pilgrim was drawn, as if by a Hand;
He knew he must go up to the Lamb.

Up that Great Hill he must ascend.
I’ve entered the Gates of Pearl, thought he,
Now I must come home to Him.
I must enter that Great City
To dwell in Christ’s Presence eternally.
How wonderful those Gates of Pearl;
Those sweet birds singing so joyfully;
But how I long to see my Great King
To serve Him there as I did in the world.

A Voice so gentle, yet so strong
Thundered in the Pilgrim’s ears:
Son, you’ve been faithful for so many years.
I long for you to walk with Me
On Heaven’s Streets of Gold so fair;
To sit with you by the River of Life;
The sweetest fruit with you to share.

But these delights are for a future time,
A time not very far away;
This is very hard for Me to say:
But could your homecoming please be delayed?

So few on earth have hearts so pure,
So giving, unselfish and faithful as yours.
Will you go back to a world of pain
So that more lost souls may be saved?

There are others you’ve yet to meet
Who have no friend their burdens to share;
The love of so many has waxed cold.
Many false shepherds care only for gold;
They feed themselves and not the flock.

Many weak saints become satan’s prey;
They feel confounded, they’ve lost their way.
Oh, won’t you help them stand on the Rock
And resist the foe in the Valley below?

The Pilgrim replied with trembling voice,
Recalling Christ’s agony in Gethsemane:
Father, I feel I’m offered a choice,
But I have clearly heard Your Voice.

I’ve yearned for years to come home to You,
Your Glorious Face to behold;
To walk with You on pure Streets of Gold;
I’ve longed to stand on the Crystal Sea
With millions to worship you there;
To begin a blissful eternity
Free at last from the Vale of Tears.

Now I choose my old cross to resume;
To return to earth and not go home.
I must not ascend yonder Hill;
I’ve work on earth to finish still.
Father, I delight to do Your will;
My remaining sojourn Your Love will fill.

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