An Ode to Life An ode of the Saved

I am free! Free from Death and all that is with it. Death has no power over me, for it has no power over my Master, and for that I sing. My heart is happy, for the Grave has come to naught, and Death is made a servant of the Master. Come, O Death, come, for though you end this life, in doing so you begin the next. Take this body, O Grave, and see what comes of it. Though you swallow up the body, my soul is in the hand of the Master and you have no power over it. Sing all ye creation, of the Father, who sent his Son to die, that we may live. “O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?” This is my song, which the Lord has taught me, and it gives me joy. Gold, silver and treasures, I have not. What good are they? Will they save me in my last hour? Will they follow me to the grave? My gold is peace and love, my silver, joy and salvation. These are my treasures and my store is full. I have walked the Way, I have believed the Truth, and I have been given the Life. Oh You Lost Souls! You wander this life clothed in Darkness. You are empty, foolish, and void of understanding. The Lord is round about, and yet, you deny Him. “The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.” “A rod for the fools back.” A great king once said, but your end shall not be so light, O Lost Soul. Why trust you in gold and silver? Why trust you in the storehouse? Why trust you in man? Behold, before you is a cliff, yet you march onward to your destruction. Turn from the path of sin and Death, unto the path of righteousness and Life. You say, “My works shall approve me in that final hour” Works?! “There is none that doeth good, no, not one.” Why trust you in your works, Lost Soul? Truthful was the Preacher, when he said, “I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.” Life is given freely by the Father, through the Blood of His Son. Receive life, and rejoice in it. Be not still. Behold now the Deceiver comes with his armies, to destroy, plunder, and rob you of your soul. Get you behind the banner of Salvation and put on the Armor of God. Take your place among the great host of saints. March forward with thy brethren, and the Father, who goes on before, to fight and conquer that evil one, even the father of lies. “I am free, free from Death and all that is with it.” This is my song, and in it is much joy. I beg of you, Come now, stand with me, as my brother, and sing that song of joy. I pray someday, you will.

-- Little Bit Farm (littlebit@brightok.net), October 24, 2003