PAINTING OF THE MASTER
I saw a painting of the Master that looked right at me,
His eyes were full of love and mercy, also pure majesty,
I gazed back to notice the smile on that kind, noble face,
How could a painter know of such sweetness and grace?
Then I started thinking of Jesus in my own mind’s eye,
The sorrow and sadness as He was rejected, then off to die,
Would He be all radiant and full of sweet calm beauty
As He suffered in Gethsemane to fulfill in eternal duty?
When He healed the sick and taught and walked about free,
He would wear a different face than when he stilled the sea,
Different when He blessed the children, calling them by name,
Than when He suffered anguish and was filled with deep pain.
One day I’ll see His eyes, know if they are brown, blue or green,
I’ll not need a painted picture as through other eyes once seen,
I’ll strive to be good and humble so He will hold my hand,
Lead me safely home and then I may then really understand.
Understand the pure love of God and His beloved Son,
Understand more of the plan and how our souls are won,
As I see more paintings of my Saviour may I truly realize
The path He lays before us leads to a great eternal prize.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson February 25, 2003