The Master, wise, benevolent,
Gazed down upon the patterned plot,
As all creation gathered there—
The time had come to face their lot.
Assembling on the checkered paths
Were those of rank, renown and brawn.
Amongst them, small and sallow yet—
There stood I, the lowly pawn.
Not much had I to bring in way of service
To my Sovereign.
The best that I could offer Him,
Myself, He took upon Him.
He knew my shadowed history.
He knew the faults I brought.
And yet, He cleansed me from my stains
And with His blood, my ardor bought!
Armed only with His promise,
And a tattered, worn-down sword,
I stood ready on the front lines,
Prepared to die to serve my Lord!
The darkened foe, both swift and sly
Summoned throngs from deep below
And squandering not one moment more,
Cutlass brandished, struck his blow!
One stroke of sin had staggered us!
The evil one took in the sight.
He chortled as he relished
Just how easily he’d won the fight.
The Rook, declaring victory,
Prepared to claim his sway,
Unaware of death’s defeat
Declared by God on time’s first day!
In the final moments of the match
The Rook stood shocked as sin was felled!
No sting would come from death’s checkmate—
“You’re home, my child! You have done well.”
For when the game of life is o’er
And dust to dust, our flesh shall wane,
The game’s objective has been won—
To live is Christ, to die is gain!*
(* Reference to Philippians 1:21, NIV)
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