THE PICTURE OF JESUS

I sat and looked at the master’s picture hanging on the chapel wall,
I thought I saw His robe move, thought I heard Him quietly call,
Were those tears of true love gleaming in those tender eyes?
If he had come to me, there would have been no surprise.

His clothes look a little creased, as they would do long ago,
His arm seems a little weary as He beckons someone so,
Had they turned from Him when he said “Come follow me.”
Went the way of the world, instead of listening at His knee?

His feet look sore and dusty, in need of a gentle bathe,
Will noone wash these tired feet, after all He gave?
How many miles did he walk? How many did he heal?
How many went away rejoicing? How tired did He feel?

See the strong shoulders stoop, is His burden already heavy?
Does He feel weary because of being rejected by so many?
Do I make His burden lighter, by doing things that are right
Or cause these sacred shoulders to stoop more with the weight.

Look at the picture closely and think of His redeeming love,
Think of His loving kindness opening the gate of heaven above,
Think of His perfect example, let us follow the best we may
And so look forward to meet Him, and see if He looks that way.

M Ann Margetson © November 10, 2000

Use your BACK button to return to previous page