A Date with Jesus
I have a date each week with Jesus,
He has set the time for me,
When I remember the sacrifice,
He made on Calvary’s tree.
I recall that day in an upper room,
When He blessed the fruit of the vine,
And said, “This is my blood which is shed for you,
I died for sins of thine.”
He is not dead! He lives! He lives!
Above the clouds of mist,
Yet once a week He meets with me,
A lover’s holy tryst.
My sin is ever before me,
I cry “O cleanse me with Thy blood.”
And so He says, “Keep thou the feast,
There touch the crimson flood.”
And so I want to tell you sir,
“While I am mentally and physically able,
I aim to keep my date with Him,
At His Communion Table.”
This poem in its original form was written by an anonymous author. I have made several changes to every passage of prose to personalize it, while keeping its intended significance intact.
He has set the time for me,
When I remember the sacrifice,
He made on Calvary’s tree.
I recall that day in an upper room,
When He blessed the fruit of the vine,
And said, “This is my blood which is shed for you,
I died for sins of thine.”
He is not dead! He lives! He lives!
Above the clouds of mist,
Yet once a week He meets with me,
A lover’s holy tryst.
My sin is ever before me,
I cry “O cleanse me with Thy blood.”
And so He says, “Keep thou the feast,
There touch the crimson flood.”
And so I want to tell you sir,
“While I am mentally and physically able,
I aim to keep my date with Him,
At His Communion Table.”
This poem in its original form was written by an anonymous author. I have made several changes to every passage of prose to personalize it, while keeping its intended significance intact.
No comments:
Post a Comment