The Porter

Sitting at the station feeling weary and worn
Burdened by sin, my soul was so torn.
I heard the train coming, it was stopping for me,
As it pulled to the platform, I said, " Finally! ".

I stood to my feet and stepped toward the door.
My luggage so heavy, I could carry no more.
Struggling on board - trying on my own,
The porter came forth - for He must have known.

He reached out and said " Let me take that for you."
Asking my name, He said " There's more I can do."
As I followed He led me to a place I could rest,
Treating me so special, like I was the best.

My clothes, they were soiled, not looking very clean.
The porter did take them, for He must have seen.
He washed and He pressed them and made them look new,
Not taking Him long, for there were so few.

My body was trembling from no food to eat.
The porter came and got me for He had a seat.
The table was ready, what a feast was before me,
Nothing was lacking when I looked to see.




Coming to a halt , it was time to go;
My family standing there, all I did know.
I turned to the porter, thinking He was gone,
But still standing beside me - He'd ushered me Home.

My Porter is Jesus, taking care of my needs,
Any burdens I have, He lifts them for me.
When my journey is over and I'll travel no more,
My Porter will take me to that Heavenly shore.
( Yes, Jesus will take me to that Heavenly shore.)


By  Karen Cox
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