The Race

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.
Press on, my weary soldier,   the prize  will soon be won
You'll feel the thrill of Victory..... hear Him say Well done!
dwr 02\08\03