The Christian fight is a good fight - really good, truly good, emphatically good. We see only part of it as yet. We see the struggle, but not the end; we see the campaign, but not the reward; we see the cross, but not the crown. We see a few humble, broken-spirited, penitent, praying people, enduring hardships and despised by the world; but we see not the hand of God over them, the face of God smiling on them, the kingdom of glory prepared for them. These things are yet to be revealed. Let us not judge by appearances. There are more good things about the Christian warfare than we see.
J.C. Ryle

Escape The Mark

Escape The Mark

ESCAPE THE MARK

Rainbows over mountain tops

Cloaked in pure white snow.
Mighty oaks line the banks

Of winding rivers that flow.

The setting sun reflects the scene

As darkness takes its cue.
Nature sleeps through the night

To be awakened by the morning dew.

It’s a beautiful world we live in

Created for the purpose of man.
With all its radiant beauty

Placed by God’s own hand.

Green meadows and crystal waters

With silver stars to enhance the sky. For it was the Master’s intention

That man would never die.

A place to live forever

With no sorrow sickness or tears.
Our bodies were created

To last for eternal years.

Then sin was brought upon us

And for this all men will pay.
That’s the reason for the trouble

Throughout the world today.

For brother will turn against brother

And father will turn against son.
In the beginning this was predicted

And now it’s already being done.

In the scriptures we find it’s written

The devil will rule the land.
By deceiving and destroying

The heart and soul of man.

Every man will be given a number

Before he can buy or sell.
This will be the order demanded

Direct from the pits of hell.

Man intends to change his ways

But for now he thinks he’ll wait.
So remember the devil’s number

Is for the man who waited too late.

When he awakes that horrible morning.

And finds that he’s all alone.
With no one left to love him

Because the spirit of God is gone.

A cold empty void will surround him

And hatred will consume his heart.
This is only the beginning

For the hell is yet to start.

The sun in the heavens will darken

And the trees will refuse to bud.
All the world’s beauty will fester

And the waters will turn to blood.

In these days that are mentioned

There’ll be only terror with whom to abide. All men must suffer His torture

For there’ll be no place to hide.

Sores will cover his body

He will bleed from his head to his feet Smoke will fill his nostrils

Caused by unbearable heat.

Mighty hailstones will be falling

With brimstone out of the sky.
Man has traded his glory

For this terrible way to die.

Fire will burst from the heavens

There’ll be rivers of molten stone.
Eyes will be torn from their sockets

And the flesh will melt from the bone.

He’ll scream in pain and anger

Gnashing his teeth each breath.
He will beg for the mountains to crush him.

And plead for the pleasure of death.

Before these last days of horror

With all this hell on earth.
Take heed to what has been written

Or curse the day of your birth.

All these things will happen

Faster than the eye can blink.
Heed these warnings, Mister

It may be later than you think.

The Lord is returning for His people

He will appear from out of the east. If He leaves without you, Mister

Then it’s you and the mark of the beast.

by Charles Turner (C) 1979

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