I Wonder...

"Often times I wonder that after I die
Who will come to my funeral and cry.
Would there only show up faces I expect?
Or would I be surprised if I checked?
I wonder if they will stand in silence and smile
I wonder if they'll leave right away or stay awhile.
Will they remember me as God's persevering fighter?
Or will I forever remain as the quiet, coy writer?
Will they see a girl who poured out her heart?
Or a girl who let the world tear her apart?
I wonder if they'll remember the words I write
I wonder if they'll remember me as a light.
Will Christians be happy to know they'll see me again?
Or will they question if there's even a "when"?
Will they think me as a sinner simply deceived?
Or a saint gone home and relieved?
In whole, will my life be reflected to my Christ?
Or will it be a waste, without a single price?
Oh, what will my life be to God?
How I hope I'll never be found a fraud.
Oh, how I wonder what testimony I'm leaving behind
Is it one that will crush my heart and cause me to grind my teeth?
How I pray that this life will not be a waste
How I pray for it not to be done in unthinking haste.
In the end, what will all the world see?
Will anyone even care to miss me?
Oh how I pray they will remember me as God's weak and lowly fighter
Oh how I want to make God's name all the more brighter.
What a waste and shame it would be if everyone left that service without to my God, a single thought.
What a disgrace I would to my grave have brought.
But let this body, mind, and spirit be worn out,
So as they gather for my funeral they will be clear of all doubt."

A Poem I am Memorizing

"Blessed Creator,
Thou hast promised thy beloved sleep;
Give me restoring rest needful for tomorrow's toil.
If dreams be mine, let them not be tinged with evil.
Let thy Spirit make my time of repose a blessed temple of his holy presence.
May my frequent lying down make me familiar with death,
the bed I approach remind me of the grave.
the eyes I now close picture to me their final closing.
Keep me always ready, waiting for admittance to thy presence.
Weaken my attachment to earthly things.
May I hold life loosely in my hand,
knowing that I receive it on condition of its surrender;
As pain and suffering betoken transitory health,
may I not shrink from a death
that introduces me to the freshness of eternal youth.
I retire this night in full assurance of one day awakening with thee.
All glory for this precious hope,
for the gospel of grace,
for thine unspeakable gift of Jesus,
for the fellowship of the Trinity.
Withhold not thy mercies in the night season;
thy hand never wearies,
thy power needs no repose,
thine eye never sleeps.
Help me when I helpless lie,
when my conscience accuses me of sin,
when my mind is harassed by foreboding thoughts,
when my eyes are held awake by personal anxieties.
Show thyself to me as the God of all grace, love and power;
thou hast a balm for every wound.
a solace for all anguish,
a remedy for every pain,
a peace for all disquietude.
Permit me to commit myself to thee awake or asleep."


--Sleep, The Valley of Vision.

"Willingly submit, then, O my soul! It is not thyself, but this flesh that must be dissolved; this troublesome, vile, and corruptible flesh. Study thy duty, work while it is still day, and let God choose they time; and willingly stand to His disposal. When I die, the gospel dies not, the world dies not, but perhaps it will grow better, and those prayers to be answered which seemed to be lost, and perhaps some of the seed I have sown will spring up when I am dead."
     ---Richard Baxter, Dying Thoughts