Death Is Nothing but a Moment's Rest
Death is nothing but a moment's
rest
Until the Second Coming of the Lord
When He shall gather to Him of the best
To take them to the place of their reward.
I've felt the power of Jesus in my soul
Shining like a golden sun within,
Melting my hard heart to make me whole,
Burning out the remnants of my sin.
I've felt Him work within me, so I know
The glory that will come when I awake.
I'll sleep just like a child who'll homeward go,
And in my dreams of love great pleasure take.
So do not mourn my death, and do not grieve.
The Lord will come for me: This I believe.
Midnight Miracles Make Quiet Mornings
Midnight miracles make
quiet mornings.
Even God sleeps peaceful on the breast.
Restless nights result in dreamy dawnings,
Revelations ripe for sunlit rest.
Years of love lie drowsy, slug-a-bed.
Choices seem to snuggle, sleeping in.
Holiness is happiness instead,
Rich in all that gathers grace within.
In love of God or man, the Earth must turn.
Songs of angels come in troubled times.
The miracle of witness one must earn,
Moving to transfigure one's own crimes.
As faith and love require restful sleep,
So, too, must they their midnight vigils keep.