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The Race
By
David Rowley
Spring air laughing, Cascading o're my face
An eagle soars above me majestic in it's grace
Clouds paint careless portraits, edge the sky with lace
and in it all His strength is there to help me run the race.
Cold wind shouting. “Don't think you'll reach the goal!”
Dark, insipid whispers, that strain the weary soul.
Shadows mask the path way, try to slow the pace,
But looking unto Him I find the light to run my race
So, looking unto Jesus, who earned the victors crown,
Who gained my life by giving His, ... For Him I'll lay mine down,
Then run, my weary soldier, the prize will soon be won
You'll feel the thrill of Victory..... hear Him say Well done!
02\08\03
 John
10:9 I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall
go in and out, and find pasture.
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