This isn’t death, it’s glory!
It isn’t dark, it’s light.
It isn’t stumbling, groping,
Or even faith, it’s sight!
This isn’t grief, it’s having
My last tear wiped away.
It’s sunrise, it’s the morning
Of my eternal day!
This isn’t even praying,
It’s speaking face to face.
It’s listening, and it’s glimpsing
The wonders of His Grace.
This is the end of pleading
For strength to bear my pain.
Not even pain’s dark memory
Will ever live again.
How did I bear the earth life
Before I came up higher,
Before my soul was granted
It’s every deep desire.
Before I knew this rapture
Of meeting face to face
That One who sought and saved me,
And kept me by His Grace!
Anonymous.
When my 52-year-old daughter succumbed to breast cancer and went home to be with the Lord on November 5, I had just found this poem as I sorted through old papers that I was filing. I posted it on Facebook to show my friends that the Lord has me, and I’m gonna be OK.. Her passing hurts, but it doesn’t have to hurt every moment of every day because I know where she is. I know she’s enjoying what she’s doing right now, and I am so thankful.