Maranatha   By Calvin Bergsma


Autumn comes... and the leaves fall to the ground
And the fields of green turned to shades of brown
That is how the master paints the town
With a spray of colors meant to melt your frown

 And soon in the restless leaves will all lie still
As a billion flakes of snow adorn my sill
That is how the Master of cleans His house
He does this in me, before he sends me out
 

But how long will it be...
Before these mortal eyes perceive
That which all nature longs to see...
But we only see his reflection in the trees

 There'll come a day not long from now
When the artist will unveil himself
To my eyes of clay
Not through a glass sooted with my mistakes
But like two men see... Face-to-face

 But how long will it be...
Before these mortal eyes perceive
That which all nature longs to see
But we only see his reflection in the trees

Maranatha... come quickly Lord Jesus!

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More Than Just A Theory Spiritual Warfare Tips on Sharing Your Testimony
Peace will Guard the Nation Sharing More Than A Ride  
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