Face To Face

Face To Face
By Mark Spencer

I didn't know what hit me,
My chest felt ready to explode.
What once seemed invincible,
Was beginning to corrode.

There was nothing I could do,
My life was slipping away.
I wondered if God was real,
And if He was, what He might say.

I didn't have to wonder long,
Before I was drawn toward a light.
The brightest light I'd ever seen.
'Twas a strangely familiar sight.

I could sense some kind of presence,
That seemed to come from all around.
A voice said; "Welcome home my son."
It spoke without making a sound.

I knew the voice belonged to God,
And I thought about my reply.
So much I wanted to ask Him,
Yet all I could think of was; why?

Why must we live in fear of Him,
And why are some consigned to Hell?
Why is the Earth not paradise?
Why must we leave our mortal shell?

"My son," He said, "there's more at stake,
Than you could ever understand.
You are soldiers in a battle,
Overpowered and undermanned."

"Satan claims you are a mistake,
That I was wrong in making you.
So you agreed to make your stand,
To prove his statement was untrue."

"Those that fall into the darkness,
Are prisoners of Satan's war.
Casualties of their own free will,
My warnings, they chose to ignore."

"You have asked why you must perish,
While in life you must fear my wrath.
Your time is all your soul can stand,
Fear of Me keeps you on your path."

"I give you signs to point the way,
But the choices are yours to make.
My Son was sent to give you hope,
Yet His gift, you must choose to take."

He told me that I must return,
Years of life still ahead of me.
There was more work left to be done,
Before my soul could be set free.

Consciousness began to return,
The ambulance came into view.
His last words imbued on my soul;
"My son, I have much faith in you."

End.