..........The Stranger..........
As on a dark and winding road

I pressed along and bore my load

Complaining at my awful task

I met a man who this did ask:

"Why are you so despondent friend?

For rest awaits at journey's end."

"But I can see no coming rest,

Just more of this that I detest;

And now my flesh is sore," said I,

"And time draws near for me to die."

"Be strong, my child," the Stranger said,

"It just may be that when you're dead

You'll find that rest you seek in life,

In yon' fair land where is no strife."

In silence we walked on a bit,

And still within I longed to quit

Despite the things he had to say,

For Heaven seemed so far away.

"Kind Sir," said I, "What makes you think

That after death we shall not sink

Into the deepest pits of hell?

What makes you think that all is well

O'er in that land by darkness hid

That comes not 'til they've closed the lid

On our pine box and in the ground

So surely placed it safe and sound?"

"Take heart, my child," He then replied,

"The faithful shall be satisfied

When comes the end of life below

Sweet rest awaits -- this you may know:

You'll not be left then all alone

If here the Savior you have known."

Again in silence we walked on

'Til time drew near for break of dawn

I saw what seemed a gaping wound

In fear the worst I then assumed

An awful villain was this man

To take my goods his evil plan!

But in the dim light of the stars

I saw what looked to me like scars

Indeed a hole within each hand:

Confused, I did not understand...

And then His feet my eyes beheld

At once my heart within me swelled

I gazed upon His searching eyes

The Stranger I then recognized

And as the dark gave way to day

I found my Friend had gone away.

I thought upon the words He spoke

New hope within my heart awoke

And all my worries seemed so small

I found the strength to face them all!

I pressed along and bore my load

Along the dark and winding road.

It's funny how fears disappear

When to the Savior one draws near;

And how one sore perplexed, distressed:

Finds in Him comfort, peace and rest.

Now when my strength has reached its end

I stop and think of that strange Friend

Who spoke of life beyond the grave:

'Twas Christ who died, my soul to save.


..........H. L. Gradowith..........

Of course, this is not an account of an actual event.  It is a figurative narrative designed to show the hope and comfort Christ brings, the life-changing potential in coming to Him, and the folly of bearing one's load alone. I hope you enjoyed it.  Tim Smith
 

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