I have long been a listener to the Grace to You broadcasts with John MacArthur Jr. Once he spoke of finding a poem, untitled and unsigned, in his Grandfather's bible. This is what he read. Quite sobering:
When I stand at the Judgement Seat of Christ
And He shows me His plan for me;
The plan of my life as it might have been.
And I see how I blocked Him here,
And checked Him there,
And would not yield my will.
Will there be grief in my Saviours eyes,
Grief though He loves me still?
He would have me rich but I stand there poor,
Striped of all but His grace,
While memory runs like a haunted thing
Down a path I can't retrace.
And then my desolate heart will well nigh break
With tears I cannot shed.
I will cover my face with my empty hands.
I will bow my uncrowned head.
Oh Lord, of the years that are left to me,
I give them to Thy hand.
Take me and break me and mold me
To the pattern that Thou hast planned.
