Feels like: 17°F
Friday, Nov. 27, 2015
The Time is RipePosted Wednesday, January 12, 2011, at 5:47 PM
Many hours of scooping snow here would be required to obtain this effect. (We are lucky)
By Arley Steinhour 011211
It is time for this old 'Blue nose,' to snuggle warmly into bed,
But first I feel I need to write down, what's inside my head.
What's in my head is in my heart, demanding to be logged,
About the concern that I have, where society has jogged.
There was a time when Sunday morn, you couldn't find a soul,
Unless you walked through open doors, where bells on Sundays toll.
It wasn't really long ago, that Jesus loved children, we surely knew.
The older folks were full in charge, a swat returned attention back to you.
After Church, the swimming pit, or sled ride down a hill we knew,
A special treat was cowboy matinee, and see Cartoon, or two.
Our lives revolved around growing up, God and Country, to be true,
But, some where in life's shuffle, we lost faithful sight of you.
Today, we know you're coming soon, riding on a big white horse,
With blood-stained robe, and shiny sword, for retribution, or worse.
There are so many faithful, who love you through and through,
But there are just as many, who would kill all belief in you.
Your prophecy does tell us, Tribulation takes seven year,
With first half not too bad, but second filled with death and fear.
Some folk feel that you did say, the Believer won't be tested,
After Rapture, those becoming your's, at least will be arrested.
The end of Tribulation, will find at Armageddon's end,
Every soul who takes Beast 'mark,' ner ere be Jesus' friend.
Ten Centuries, you'll rule on earth, over those of Tribulation who survive,
Millennium starts with peace on earth, with less than one in four alive.
A Thousand years, of near no death, population sure does soar,
But, after the thousand, Satan's released, and raises troops for war.
Harmony, of character, and peaceful living, bothers many of mortality,
By droves they turn to Satan, who offers great fun and games for free.
All of those who turn from you, condemns self to where they go,
Eternal torment in the lake of fire, sharing equal in Satan's woe.
So, those of us, who be part of you, must search both high and low,
For any person hopefully seeking, Redemptive Salvation, to know.
Each one of us is part of you, the Bride-groom, we be Bride,
That you Snatch away, when Father says, 'Go bring them all inside.'
So, now we need be Watching, lamp filled and trimmed to see,
Our Bridegroom as You approach, with everyone, as ready, as me.
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