WINDOWS - A Poem by: Betty A Walton
In windows of this house of God
Our dear Lord comes to mind.
If we but pause and take a look
Christ Jesus we will find.
The Book, the cross, the crown are there
Of Him to testify.
His role as prophet, priest and king
We see with spiritual eye.
Our Shepherd, He, with lamb in arm
Is caring, king and true.
He keeps us safe within the fold
No matter what we do.
The Holy Spirit next we see
Comes down from up above.
The Spirit, as the Bible tells,
Is pictured as a dove.
Again the cross and crown are shown
For everyone to see.
His death upon the cross is past,
The crown is yet to be.
Gethsemane is where He prayed,
"Father remove this cup..."
But even as He said those words
He knew that he must sup.
The empty tomb is what we see
For He's no longer bound.
Our sinless Savior left the tomb,
His body was not found.
And last we see the sheaf of wheat
It stands to straight and tall.
When our Lord comes to harvest us
We'll surely heed His call.
What beauty in this house of God
If we will only see.
The story's here for everyone:
He died for you and me.