Life's Race

With my face toward the Son, I rise,

Knowing that no race is won

Without some defeats along the way

So that I remain humble enough to pray

To my Savior for strength, courage and the will

To stand, to fight, to hold on to the very end

No matter how tired I get or have been.

Facing forward, teeth bared, I move on

To the next lap of life's arduous race.

I gain strength through my mind's image of His face;

It was bruised,battered,bloodied for me,

A wretch born in sin, and shaped in iniquity.

This race is not for the fleet of foot, the swift,

But for those who endure to the very end

By looking to Jesus,Savior, Comforter,Redeemer ,and Friend.

(c) 010: This, and other poems by Barbara Henry,is protected by copyright laws.