In sorrow and with heavy hearts We gather on this day, To cast to earth a little lad, To share, to grieve, to pray. For little Hamish, ere he knew To either laugh or cry, Was taken from us suddenly, And now we wonder why. That hand that never held a spade, That eye that never saw, Those feet that never trod the soil, Now seem to be no more. But this is only part the tale, For we have hope above— A God with power beyond this world Whose character is Love; A God who knows the depths of pain, In Person of his Son Took human nature, flesh and blood— For us the victory won. He lived through hunger, thirst and trial, He knew both joy and gloom, He prayed through many sleepless hours, He wept at Lazarus’ tomb. Through death he plumbed the depths of hell, In power he rose to reign, And demonstrated once for all A final end to pain. And so, in faith we journey on, We trust, if cannot see, In hope of glory yet to come, Touched by eternity. And when at last the trumpet sounds, And this grey sleeping dust Is transformed by God’s mighty power, Then he will rise with us. In instant recognition then No stranger will we meet— A loving son, a friend in Christ— A family complete. Then we shall see what traits, what gifts, Within your genes were sealed, What personality is yours, In manhood full revealed. So, Hamish, though we still do grieve, We follow where we’re led; And till that glorious break of Day We send our love ahead.
Posted on: Sun, 09 Mar 2014 18:28:40 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015