Heaven is a prepared place for prepared people.

Heaven and hell are in opposite directions, and no man can go both ways at the same time.

When the last feeble step has been taken
And the gates of that City appear,
And the beautiful songs of the angels
Float out on my listening ear.
When all that now seems so mysterious
Will be bright and as clear as the day,
Then the toils of the road with seem nothing,
When I get to the end of the way.


My heavenly home is bright and fair;
Nor pain nor death can enter there;
Its glittering towers the sun outshine,
That heavenly mansion shall be mine.
I’m going home, I’m going home,
I’m going home, to die no more!

My Father’s house is built on high,
Far, far above the starry sky:
When from this earthly prison free,
That heavenly mansion mine shall be.

While here, a stranger far from home,
Affliction’s waves may round me foam;
And though like Lazarus, sick and poor,
My heavenly mansion is secure.

Let others seek a home below,
Which flames devour, or waves o’erflow;
Be mine the happier lot to own
A heavenly mansion near the throne.

Then fail this earth, let stars decline,
And sun and moon refuse to shine;
All nature sink and cease to be,
This heavenly mansion stands for me,
I’m going home, I’m going home,
I’m going home, to die no more!


We’ll meet again–the loved ones gone before us–
In that bright realm–the land of light and love;
It may be that e’en now they’re watching o’er us,
And longing for the time we’ll meet above.

We’ll meet again–of that we may be certain,
In that bright Home so wondrous and so fair,
Whose glories, veiled to us as by a curtain,
Through God’s redeeming grace we are to share.

We’ll meet where neither sadnesses nor sorrows
Shall for one moment rob the heart of joy;
Where there shall be no dark uncertain morrows,
Or aught whatever to the bliss destroy.

Ah yes, we’ll meet again in that bright glory;
How wondrous it will be to talk things o’er,
And to begin a fresh, but never-ending story
Of life which shall endure forevermore.
–J. Danson Smith


No shadows There! They joyfully behold Him!
No cloud to dim their vision of His face!
No jarring note to mar the holy rapture,
The perfect bliss of that most blessed place.

No burdens There! These all are going forever!
No weary nights, no long or dragging days!
No sighings There, or secret, silent longings,–
For all is now unutterable praise.

No conflicts There! No evil hosts assailing!
Such warfare past–forever made to cease;
No tempter’s voice is heard within those portals;
No foe lurks there to break the perfect peace.

No sorrows There! no sadness and no weeping!
Tears wiped away–all radiant now each face;
Music and song, in happy holy blending,
Fill all the courts of that sweet resting-place.
–J. Danson Smith
(Rev. 14:13; Lk. 23:43; Phil. 1:23; Rev. 22:3-5)


Safe Home at last; Oh say not he has died.
His soul has only crossed the swelling tide,
And Heaven’s gates for him have opened wide–
He’s home at last!

A true and valiant warrior of the Faith,
Proclaiming Christ e’en with his latest breath,
Has laid his armor down–call it not death.
He’s home at last!

He now beholds, with eyes undimmed by tears,
The face of Him who through the passing years,
Has been his stay, dispelling doubt and fears.
He’s home at last!

At Home, with those on earth he loved so well,
Who now within the walls of jasper dwell,
Oh bliss beyond all mortal pow’r to tell!
He’s home at last!

Life’s sun for him has set—but oh the glow
That long will linger o’er this world of woe,
Because he lived and labored here below!
He’s home at last!
–Avis B. Christiansen


“They are not dead, those loved ones who have passed
Beyond our vision for a little while,
They have but reached the Light while we still grope
In darkness where we cannot see them smile.

Then let us gird us once again with hope,
And give them smile for smile the while we wait;
And loving, serving, when our Father calls,
We’ll go to find our dear ones wait us at the gate.”
–Author unknown


There’s an open gate at the end of the road

Through which each must go alone,
And there, in a light we cannot see,
Our Father claims His own—
Beyond the gate, your loved one
Finds happiness and rest,
And there is comfort in the thought
That a loving God Knows best.


The greatest event which can take place in the life of the believer occurs when God delivers us from the bondage of our bodies and our spirits go to be with him in heaven. What a glorious thought that is! There is nothing to dread, for it is good to be with the Lord. Death is forever swallowed up in victory,
–Harold Lindsell


At evening when the stars set out
Their silvery lamps to burn
I stand in awe at such a sight
And them my spirit yearns:

Beyond those stars—there rests my hope
Of heaven, Christ and God;
It makes my pilgrimage on earth
A brighter path to plod.

Because of mansions in the sky
My home so humble here
Needs only thoughts of life beyond
To bring a wealth of cheer.

My Saviour has gone on ahead
Preparing there for me
A mansion; though unmerited
It’s mine eternally.

And so on quiet starlit nights
I walk outdoors to gaze
Upon those starry velvet skies
And sing a song of praise.
— Fred Sleb


Stillness midst the ever-changing,

Lord, my rest art Thou;
So for me has dawned the morning,
God’s eternal NOW.
Now for me the day unsetting,
Now the song begun;
Now, the deep surprising glory,
Brighter than the sun.

Hail! All hail! Thou peaceful country
Of eternal calm;
Summer land of milk and honey,
Where the streams are balm
There the Lord my Shepherd leads me,
Wheresoe’er He will;
In the fresh green pastures feeds me,
By the waters still.

Well I know them, those still waters!
Peace and rest at last;
In their depths the quiet heavens
Tell the storms are past,
Nought to mar the picture fair,
Of the glory resting there.
–Gerhard Tersteegen


The Body

Benjamin Franklin, Printer
(Like the cover of an old book,
Its contents torn out,
And stripped of its letter and gilding,)
Lies here food for worms,
Yet the work itself shall not be lost,
For it will (as he believes) appear one more
In a new
And beautiful Edition
Corrected and Amended
The Author


The school of life has taught me much

Of living, planning, dreams and such.
I’ve learned to work and learned to play
But this is my promotion day.

There is a mansion I’ve been told
Of silver, precious stones and gold,
It’s finished now, and so I’ll say
Good-bye to you—it’s moving day.

I’ve waited long to see His face
Since He redeemed me by His grace.
I’ve served Him without thought of pay,
But this is now my crowning day.

Ever since my second birth
I’ve been a truant on the earth;
Was held by chains of earthly clay,
Now this—my liberation day.
–J.C. Brumfield


Not dead—oh no, but borne beyond the shadows

Into the full clear light;
Forever done with mist and cloud and tempest
Where all is calm and bright.

Not even sleeping—called to glad awakening
In Heaven’s cloudless day:
Not still and moveless—stepped from earth’s rough places
To walk the King’s highway.

Not silent—just passed out of earthly hearing
To sing Heaven’s sweet new song;
Not lonely—dearly loved and dearly loving
Amid the white-robed throng.

But not forgetful—keeping fond remembrance
Of dear ones left awhile;
And looking gladly to the bright reunion
With handclasp and with smile.

Oh no, not dead, but past all fear of dying,
And with all suffering o’er;
Say not that I am dead when JESUS calls me
To live forevermore.
— Marion E.C. Netherton


“Tis finished, ‘tis done, the spirit is fled;

The pris’ner is gone, the Christian is dead;
The Christian is living, through Jesus’ love,
And gladly receiving a kingdom above.

All honor and praise are Jesus’ due:
Supported by grace he fought his way through;
Triumphantly glorious through Jesus’ zeal,
And more that victorious o’er sin, death, and hell.

Then let us record the conquering name;
Our Captain and Lord with shoutings proclaim;
Who trust in his passion, and follow Our Head,
To certain salvation we all shall be led.

O Jesus! Lead on thy militant care;
And give us the crown of righteousness there,
Where, dazzled with glory, the seraphim gaze,
Or prostrate adore thee, in silence of praise.

Come, Lord, and display thy sign in the sky,
And bear us away to mansions on high:
The kingdom be given, the purchase divine,
And crown us in heaven eternally thine.


Near a shady wall a rose once grew,

Budded and blossomed in God’s free light,
Watered and fed by morning dew,
Shedding its sweetness day and night.

As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,
Slowly rising to loftier height,
It came to a crevice in the wall,
Through which there shone a beam of light.

Onward it crept with added strength,
With never a thought of fear or pride
It followed the light through the crevice length,
And unfolded itself on the other side.

The light, the dew, the broadening view,
Were found the same as they were before:
And it lost itself in beauties new,
Breathing its fragrance more and more.

Shall claim of death cause us to grieve,
And make our courage faint or fall?
Nay, let its faith and hope receive—
The rose still grows beyond the wall.

Scattering fragrance far and wide,
Just as it did in day of yore,
Just as it did on the other side,
Just as it will for evermore.
–A.L Frink


I cannot think of them as dead

Who walk with me no more;
Along the path of life I tread
They have but gone before.

The Father’s house is mansioned fair
Beyond my vision dim;
All souls are his, and here or there
Are living unto him.

And still their silent ministry
Within my heart hath place,
As when on earth they walk with me
And met me face to face.

Their lives are made forever mine;
What they to me have been
Hath left henceforth its seal and sign
Engraven deep within.

Mne are they by an ownership
Nor time nor death can free;
For God hath given to Love to keep
Its own eternity.
–Frederick L. Hosmer


What is death? Oh! What is death?

‘Tis the snapping of the chain—
‘Tis the breaking of the bowl—
‘Tis relief from ev’ry pain—
‘Tis freedom to the soul—
‘Tis the setting of the sun
To rise again tomorrow,
A brighter course to run,
Nor sink again to sorrow.
Such is death! Yes, such is death!

What is death? Oh! What is death?
‘Tis slumber to the weary—
‘Tis rest to the forlorn—
‘Tis shelter to the dreary—
‘Tis peace amid the storm—
‘Tis the entrance to our home
‘Tis the passage to that God
Who bids His children come,
When their weary course is trod.
Such is death! Yes, such is death!


What right has the morning to be gleaming and bright

After the horror and sorrow of night?
Why should trees glisten like white diadems,
And the frosty earth glow as though covered with gems?
Why does the sun shine from skies of pure blue
When our hearts are so heavy and grief is so new?

But why should the day not be brilliant and clear?
This morning is lovely for one held so dear.
Though he passed from this life in an instant of pain,
He has no regret—he has Heaven to gain!
This morning, for us, shows a shadow—soon gone–
Of the glory he’s found in the Lord’s perfect dawn.
–Marian Benedict Manwell


It is not death to die—

To leave this weary road,
And, ‘midst the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake, in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breathe the air
Of boundless liberty.

It not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise, on strong exulting wing,
to live among the just.

Jesus, thou Prince of Life!
Thy chosen cannot die;
Like thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with thee on high.


I am Home in Heaven, dear ones;

Oh so happy and so bright!
There is perfect joy and beauty
In this everlasting light.

All the pain and grief are over:
Every restless tossing passed;
I am now at peace for ever,
Safely Home in Heaven at last!

Did you wonder I so calmly
Trod the valley of the shade?
Ah, but Jesus’ love illumined
Every dark and fearful glade.

And He came Himself to meet me
In that way so hard to tread;
And with Jesus’ arm to lean on,
Could I have one doubt to dread?

Then you must not grieve so sorely,
For I love you dearly still:
Try to look beyond earth’s shadows
Pray to trust our Father’s will.

There is work still waiting for you,
So you must not idly stand;
Do I now, while life remaineth,
You shall rest in Jesus’ land.

When that work is all completed
He will gently call you Home:
Oh the rapture of that meeting!
Oh the joy to see you come!


Asleep in Jesus! Blessed sleep!

From which none ever wakes to weep!
A calm and undisturbed repose,
Unbroken by the last of foes!

Asleep in Jesus! Oh! How sweet
To be for such a slumber meet:
with holy confidence to sing
That death hath lost its venomed sting!

Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest!
Whose waking it supremely blest;
No fear—no woe, shall dim that hour,
That manifests the Saviour’s power.


What must it be to dwell above,

At God’s right hand, where Jesus reigns,
Since the sweet earnest of his love
O’erwhelms us on these earthly plains!
No heart can think, no tongue explain,
What bliss it is with Christ to reign.

When sin no more obstructs our sight
When sorrow pains obstructs our sight,
How shall we view the Prince of Light,
And all his works of grace explore!
What heights and depths of love divine
Will then through endless ages shine!

This is the heaven I long to know:
For this with patience would I wait,
Till, weaned from earth and all below,
I mount to my celestial seat,
And wave my palm, and wear my crown,
And with the elders cast them down.


It is not death to die—

To leave this weary road,
And, ‘midst the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed with tears,
And wake in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breathe the air
Of boundless liberty.

It is not death to flung
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise on strong exulting wing
To live among the just.

Jesus, Thou Prince of Life,
Thy chosen cannot die;
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with Thee on high.
— H.A. Cesar Malam


Out of the strain of the Doing

Into the peace of the Done
Out of the thirst of Pursuing
Into the rapture of Won
Out of grey mist in brightness
Out of pale dusk into Dawn—
Out of all wrong into rightness,
We from these fields shall be gone.
“Nay” say the saints “Not gone but come,
Into Eternity’s Harvest Home.”
–W.M.L. Fay


This mortal dies,—

But, in the moment when the light fails here,
The darkness opens, and the vision clear
Breaks on his/her eyes.
The vail is rent,—
On his enraptured gaze
Heaven’s glory breaks,
He was asleep, and in that moment wakes.
— John Oxenham


The Sunset Side
I’ve reached the sunset side

Of life’s steep hill,
And oft sweet thoughts of Home
My spirits fill.

That Home which sunset skies
Seem but to veil,
As joys that once were mine
Grow dim and fail.

But, ah! The sunset side
Is surely best;
Behind—the long hard climb!
Soon—Home and Rest!

And faces dear I lost
Long, long ago,
I soon shall find again.
Ah, yes! I know.

But more than all, One Face
I then shall see—
That face divine of Him
Who died for me.

Of Him whose love has been
My strength and stay,
Whose hand hath guided me
Through all the way…

Ah, yes! The sunset side
Is surely best;
Behind—the long hard climb!
Soon—Home and Rest!
— Anonymous


And I Saw A New Heaven And A New Earth
And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.

And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of Heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them, and be their God.

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new.And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.

And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.

He that overcometh shall inherit all things: and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.
— Revelations 21: 1-7


The Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces
He will swallow up death for ever, the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth; for the Lord has spoken.

It will be said on that day, “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”

Thou dost keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusts in thee. Trust in the Lord for ever, for the Lord is an everlasting rock.
— Isaiah 25: 8-9, 26: 3-4


God Is Our Refuge And Our Strength
God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.
Therefore will not we fear,
though the earth be removed,
and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
though the waters thereof roar and be troubled,
though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.

There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God,
the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her,
she shall not be moved:
God shall help her, and that right early.
The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved:
he uttered his voice, the earth melted.
The LORD of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Come, behold the works of the LORD,
what desolations he hath made in the earth.
He maketh wars to cease unto the ends of the earth;
he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder;
he burneth the chariot in the fire.
Be still and know that I am God:
I will be exalted among the heathen,
I will be exalted in the earth.
The LORD of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.
— Psalm 46


Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled
Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.

In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you.

I go to prepare a place for you.

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know.

Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
— John 14: 1-6


Who Is The Greatest In The Kingdom Of Heaven?
At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?

And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them,

And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.
— Matthew 18: 1-5


Bring us, O Lord God
Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening into the house and gate of heaven to enter into that gate and dwell in that house, where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light; no noise nor silence, but one equal music; no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession; no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity, in the habitation of thy glory and dominion, world without end. Amen.

— John Donne, Jacobean poet, preacher, MP and Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral (1572 – 1631)


Beyond The Blue
Each gentle breeze, each sunset glow,
Each little raindrop here below,
Is but a part of God’s great plan
And purpose in the life of man.

And sometimes when deep grief or care
Is almost more than I can bear,
It seems so natural for me
To wonder why it had to be.

But deep within my heart I feel
That in all things, time will reveal
The wisdom of His guiding hand;
And sometime I shall understand.

And then it gives me strength anew,
To look up there beyond the blue,
And know that someday, we will share
The Home together–Over There.
— Anonymous


I Have a Place in Heaven
I have a place in heaven
Please don’t sing sad songs for me,
Forget your grief and fears,
For I am in a perfect place
Away from pain and tears.
It’s far away from hunger
And hurt and want and pride,
I have a place in Heaven
With the Master at my side.
My life on earth was very good,
As earthly life can go,
But Paradise is so much more
Than anyone can know.
My heart is filled with happiness
And sweet rejoicing, too.
To walk with God is perfect peace,
A joy forever new.
— Anonymous 


From Pilgrim’s Progress
I see myself now at the end of my journey, my toilsome days are ended. I am going now to see that head that was crowned with thorns, and face that was spit upon for me.

I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose company I delight myself.

I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too.

His name to me has been as a civet-box; yea, sweeter than all perfume. His voice has been most sweet; and his countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His word I did use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. ‘He has held me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities; yea, my steps hath he strengthened in his way.’

Glorious it was to see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the Pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city.
— John Bunyan, writer and preacher (1628 – 1688), read at funeral of HM Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother in 2002.


I Am Standing Upon That Foreshore
I am standing upon that foreshore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails in the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, “There! She’s gone!” “Gone where?” “Gone from my sight, that’s all.” She is just as large in mast and spar and hull as ever she was when she left my side; just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at that moment when someone at my side says “There! She’s gone!” there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!
— Henry Van Dyke, American clergyman, educator and author (1852 – 1933)


No Night Without
There is no night without a dawning

No winter without a spring
And beyond the dark horizon
Our hearts will once more sing…
For those who leave us for a while
Have only gone away
Out of a restless, care worn world
Into a brighter day.
— Helen Steiner Rice, American poet (1900 – 1981)


The New Life’s Salutation
Life, we’ve been long together

Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
‘Tis hard to part when friends are dear,
Perhaps ’twill cost a sigh, a tear;
Then steal away, give little warning,
Choose thine own time:
Say not “Good night,” but in some brighter clime
Bid me “Good morning.”
— Anna Barbauld, poet, essayist and children’s author (1743 – 1825)


There Is No Death
There is a plan far greater than the plan you know;

There is a landscape broader than the one you see.
There is a haven where storm – tossed souls may go-
You call it death – we, immortality.

You call it death – this seemingly endless sleep;
We call it birth – the soul at last set free.
‘Tis hampered not by time or space – you weep.
Why weep at death? ‘Tis immortality.

Farewell, dear Voyageur – ’twill not be long.
Your work is done – now may peace rest with thee.
Your kindly thoughts and deeds – they will live on.
This is not death – ’tis immortality.

Farewell, dear voyageur – the river winds and turns;
The cadence of your song wafts near to me,
And now you know the thing that all men learn:
There is no death – there’s immortality.
— Anonymous


He Is Not Lost Our Dearest Love
He is not lost our dearest love,

Nor has he travelled far,
Just stepped inside home’s loveliest room
And left the door ajar.
— Anonymous


Death Is Nothing At All
Death is nothing at all

I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my own familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
— Canon Henry Scott-Holland, Canon ofSt Paul’s Cathedral (1847 – 1918)


They That Love Beyond The World
They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it,

death cannot kill what never dies.
Nor can spirits ever be divided that love
and live in the same divine principle,
the root and record of their friendship.
If absence be not death, neither is theirs.
Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas;
they live in one another still.
For they must needs be present,
that love and live in that which is ominipresent.
In this divine glass, they see face to face;
and their converse is free as well as pure.
This is the comfort of friends,
that though they may be said to die,
yet their friendship and society are,
in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.
— William Penn, Quaker and founder ofPennsylvania (1644 – 1718)


The grave is but a covered bridge, leading from light to light, through a brief darkness.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, American educator and poet (1807 – 1882)


Survival After Death
… I do not pretend to offer consolation; in one very real sense there is no consolation to offer. The blow, the double blow, has fallen, and the shock which threatens the very citadel of life can be softened by nothing that I or perhaps any other can do or utter.

Who can measure the pain of separation? Who can deny that, normally at least, death means separation? And that between the living and the dead there lies an impassable gulf which no longing and no love is able to bridge? For this there is no remedy; we must bear it as we may; but to me it seems that in many cases the sorrow caused by death is due to something more and other than the cause of separaion. It is due perhaps to an unacknowledged feeling that the separation is unending.

Now if this be the settled conviction of the mourner, there is nothing more to be said. But if this is not the case, if the conviction be the other way, if the certainty or even the possibility of a future life be admitted, then we know that there is something wrong if the agonies of bereavement are more than those which should follow on a severance which, though complete, is temporary.

For myself, I entertain no doubt whatever about a future life. I deem it at least as certain as any of the hundred-and-one truths of the frame-work of the world, as I conceive the world. I am as sure that those I love and have lost are living to-day, as I am yesterday they were fighting heroically in the trenches. The bitterness lies not in the thought that they are really dead, still less in the thought that I have parted with them forever; for I think neither of these things. The bitterness lies in the thought that until I die I shall never again see them smile or hear their voices. The pain is indeed hard to bear, too hard it sometimes seems for human strength. Yet measured on the true scale of things it is but brief; death cannot long cheat us of love…
— Earl Balfour, Conservative politican and Prime Minister (1848 – 1930) in a letter to Lady Desborough at death of her two elder sons killed in the Great War.


For This Corruptible Shall Have Put On Incorruption
For this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.

O Death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
The sting of Death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.
But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.
— 1 Corinthians 15: 53-end


What the caterpillar perceives is the end, to the butterfly is just the beginning.  — Anonymous


If Only
If only we could see the splendour of the land

To which our loved ones are called from you and me
We’d understand
If only we could hear the welcome they receive
From old familiar voices all so dear
We would not grieve
If only we could know the reason why they went
We’d smile and wipe away the tears that flow
And wait content.
— Anonymous


His Journey’s Just Begun
Don’t think of him as gone away

his journey’s just begun,
life holds so many facets
this earth is only one.

Just think of him as resting
from the sorrows and the tears
in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days and years.

Think how he must be wishing
that we could know today
how nothing but our sadness
can really pass away.

And think of him as living
in the hearts of those he touched…
for nothing loved is ever lost
and he was loved so much.
— Ellen Brenneman


Life is but a stopping place,
A pause in what’s to be,
A resting place along the road,
to sweet eternity.
We all have different journeys,
Different paths along the way,
We all were meant to learn some things,
but never meant to stay…
Our destination is a place,
Far greater than we know.
For some the journey’s quicker,
For some the journey’s slow.
And when the journey finally ends,
We’ll claim a great reward,
And find an everlasting peace,
Together with the lord
— Anonymous


After each storm comes sunshine,
After the darkness, light,
After the winter’s dreary cold
come blossoms fair and white,
Surely, it is God’s wisdom
That, after an aching heart,
There shall be life eternal
Where loved ones never part!


While Waiting for Thee
Don’t weep at my grave,
For I am not there,
I’ve a date with a butterfly
To dance in the air.
I’ll be singing in the sunshine,
Wild and free,
Playing tag with the wind,
While I’m waiting for thee.
The Comfort and Sweetness of Peace.


After the clouds, the sunshine,
after the winter, the spring,
after the shower, the rainbow,
for life is a changeable thing.
After the night, the morning,
bidding all darkness cease,
after life’s cares and sorrows,
the comfort and sweetness of peace.
Helen Steiner Rice


The Door That Never Closes
There’s a door that never closes,

Though it opens but one way—
It’s the door that leads to Heaven
At the end of life’s long day.
It’s the threshold of forever
Where the heart is always glad,
It’s a respite for the weary
And a comfort for the sad.
It’s the door to peace and healing
And the door to joy and grace
Where the Master greets each guest by name
And with a warm embrace.
And the loved ones who pass through
Into the light that’s shining there
Find a sweet and perfect home
Within our Father’s loving care.


There’s More
We only see a little of the ocean,

A few miles distance from the rocky shore;
But oh! Out there beyond—beyond the eyes’ horizon
There’s more—there’s more.

We only see a little of God’s loving,
A few rich treasures from His mighty store;
But oh! Out there beyond—beyond our life’s horizon
There’s more—there’s more.


And That Is Life
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, “There! She’s gone.”

Gone where? Gone from my sight…that is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “There! She’s gone.”—there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “There she comes!”

And…THAT is life!


I’m Free
Don’t grieve for me, for now I’m free

I’m following the path God laid for me
I took His hand when I heard Him call
I turned my back and left it all.

I could not stay another day
To laugh, to love, to work or play
Tasks left undone must stay that way
I found that peace at the close of the day.

Perhaps my time seemed all too brief
Don’t lengthen it now with undue grief
Lift up your heart and share with me
God wanted me now, He set me free.