And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “Blessed indeed,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!” (Revelation 14:13)
Bless’d are the dead who die in the Lord,
Theirs is true peace, now, Christ their reward.
Those who are his their inheritance gain:
Rest from all labor, hardship, and pain.
Those left behind bear sorrow and grief,
Theirs is the mournful cry for relief.
Real is the pain, though there’s comfort in this:
God brings his own to heavenly bliss.
Paradise waits for those found in Christ,
Bread and fine wine for feasting unpriced,
Tree bending low with its dozens of fruit,
Waters of life to wet every root.
God for their daylight; Christ for their king.
Saints ’round his throne incessantly sing.
Christ for their ransom; forgiveness for sin.
God for their father; Christ for their kin.
Tears have no place there, sadness no more,
Grace for the weary, balm for the sore.
God will himself kneel to lift every chin,
Peace poured on all, all gladness within.
Ever immortal, ever with breath,
Never again to taste second death,
Sheltered forever from famine and sword,
Bless’d are the dead who die in the Lord.
© 2019 Josh Bishop
Josh Bishop Writes 