A long, long time ago, my Dad wrote a poem he named 'Victory'. At the time, his Mother was very sick and in the hospital.
After my Dad died in September of 2000, we began the slow process of going thru his many files and We came across many memories, school records, WWII papers, 15,000 handwritten pages of Bible study notes, and much, much more. But, no poem.
'Victory’ had been lost for many years, but my sister found it on a Sunday in April 2013!
By J.W. Smithwick
Men rush along life’s busy way,
Some pause to think, some even pray.
Some work and fight and forge ahead,
Some lay so still on the hospital bed.
But each man who lives, succeed or fail,
Shall some day loose this body fail,
And stand before the living God.
No secrets hide beneath the sod.
None justified by what he’s done,
Nor can he stay life’s setting sun.
Before his God, how shall he stand?
His earthly deeds condemn each man.
But hark before it is too late,
You need not bow to a sinner’s fate
For one has come and paid your price
Believe—accept—this Jesus Christ!