Zenith

A life, well-striven, has risen, friend. A goal, well-tried, will find its end is higher than it's starting place. We may not finish up the race while in this mortal sphere. Yet climb while we are here.

The Path Made Clear

When I had once in darkness trod, I could not see the way of God. Which path to tread of those ahead, I did not know, but guessed instead. And following my my mortal thought I walked not often where I ought but where I deemed the best of ways, and thought that those were happy days. Thus in the misty paths I trod instead of walking with my God. In time I tired of dim lit views on darkened paths I'd blindly choose. I tired of only seeing night. I sought for peace, for warmth, for light. I turned to God and suddenly the path was clear for me to see. Christ is the way, the truth the light; his way is straight and good and right. His words an iron rod may be that take my feeble feet toward He that beckons us to Heaven fair. He marked the path that takes me there. I praise the holy Christmas birth that brought the Light of God to earth. I sing Hosanna to His name! I worship Christ the Lord who came to show the way and light the path and give us all the Father hath. How beautiful the guiding light! How blessed to be free from night.