The Soldier & Amazing Grace


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I walked through Heaven's gate today, why I was there, I couldn't say,

I saw Mom, Grandpa, dear uncle Jay, but they all said I couldn't stay.

Is it someone that I've wronged below, is there something I've left undone?

I like it here, the air's fragrant, clear — it looks like so much fun!

 

It's just not your time, you're in your prime; at least, God says it's so.

But, look around, just walk the grounds, before He bids you have to go...

I saw on high a man nearby singing a lullaby, so sweetly,

some children playing, I tried delaying, I thought, rather discreetly.

 

I walked alone on  golden roads floating just above the ground,

what I saw next left me so perplexed I feared to make a sound.

Jesus stood there, His shimmering hair, wafted in a gentle breeze,

there beside Him, with Christ's hand to guide him—a soldier, on his knees.

 

Not just any soldier, he looked much older than those I'd seen before,

a red swastika band beneath Christ's hand; I felt then, I knew the score.

Surely, Jesus was scolding, the rifle—holding, as the man rose to his feet,

Heaven's firing squad, I thought as they trod, then Christ led him up the street...

 

I watched in awe at what I saw, as Jesus kissed him on the cheek,

I knew Nazis slew millions of Jews, they'd crushed the mild and weak.

The SS man ripped off the band,  to his knees he dropped quickly down,

I knew then it's not just our sin which causes our Saviour's face to frown.

 

Being unforgiving, devoid of giving, up here — it had no place.

I heard a sweet song waft low and long, filling the vastness of the place.

Right then I knew I'd work to do, if I expected to see Christ's face.

As He led me out, I heard the soldier shout , My God...Amazing Grace!



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