The Blessed

From prisons dark, in caverns deep-

They gather; round the world, they creep

To meet in hidden places

Tucked in silent alleys,

Tiny homes,

And fields.

They meet to rally round the Word-

Their bread, their life

For this they dared

To come

And risk their everything

On earth-

For this, the Word of Truth.

It burns within their hearts, their souls

With grace

And boldness

Sharpened like the angel’s sword

By troubles, persecutions, torture-

Great is their reward.

They are the blessed ones-

They come-

The world cannot conceive

What they believe and why

Each one would risk their all

For this Great One-

The Son of God,

For this pure pleasure,

Heaven’s Treasure

Full of grace and truth.

His favor rests upon their heads . . .

“Blessed are those

Who are persecuted

For righteousness’ sake”—

For they will wake

In light-

Some with a martyr’s crown-

No frown will be upon them.

And they will cry before the everlasting throne –

“How long, O Lord?”-

and He will answer-

“Just a little while; wait-

Until the hour is complete-

For now, you sit here at My side-“

The glorified

Redeemed in love,

Refined,

And blessed.