On Priorities

By H. L. Gradowith

We plan and we work and we scrimp and we save,
It is thus from our youth clean on to the grave;
There's so little time and we've so much to do,
Why, sometimes it seems that we'll never get through!
We're told, "Early to bed and early to rise."
Is sure to make us "healthy, wealthy and wise;"
But I've lived long enough to see that's not true!
Well, it's not been for me, I don't know 'bout you.
I've known good men who worked hard and did their best.
Some were young and poor as they were laid to rest.
It's good advice that I've followed all along,
I'm not knocking it, so please don't take me wrong;
But if you follow it, there's no guarantee
That healthy, wealthy and wise is how you'll be.
I've known lazy men who seemed to manage well.
Just how they did it, well, I never could tell.
But one thing, yes one thing, happened to them all:
Ev'ry one of them had to answer death's call!
We plan and we work and we scrimp and we save
And for what? For we all end up in a grave!
And the buzzard who's ever circling the sky
Neither plans, nor works, nor scrimps, nor saves; and why?
For in time he'll get his - that's just nature's way,
I guess, in a sense, that's how he draws his pay.
Now, why do we worry about money so?
We leave it behind when we die, don't you know?
Somewhere there's reserved an heavenly treasure
With riches and blessings beyond all measure!
Let's spend more time thinking about going there
Than our troubles and trials, complaints and cares.
I've heard the pretty words the ministers said,
But no matter how pretty, the man's still dead!
So live while you may, and always do your best;
And remember: some day you'll be laid to rest.
Then what you have will give way to who you are,
(Over there, money won't get you very far!)
You'll stand in the presence of Jesus, the King,
And long for just one thing, yes, only one thing:
For Him to look at you and lovingly say,
"Enter in, for your sins have been washed away!"
Then, whether in life you were wealthy or poor,
Or cute or ugly, won't matter anymore.
Who liked you and who you liked won't matter then,
Only whether or not you died in your sins.
The buzzard, though ugly, has something to say:
"Your time will surely come, all men die someday!"
It's not a matter of "if," for you will die;
The question is, "Have you a home in the sky?"
O, my friend, now's the time for you to prepare!
Don't you want to be with the faithful up there?
Life is so uncertain; O, why do you wait?
When death overtakes you it will be too late.
Come, O Come, for the Master's Table is spread;
It will be too late when your body lies dead.

- H. L. Gradowith For more information on H. L. Gradowith and GRADOWITH POEMS e-mail group visit http://www.geocities.com/fp5699/ - the website of Tim Smith, minister of the Enon church of Christ in Webb, AL