Dale Lloyd

With age, I spend much time reflecting
on the journey run—
all the years now over, forever gone and done.

In memory there is a message
always coming through.
It never changes—always true.

It’s written in the poetry
and in the songs we sing:
Someone has led us all the way,
and all the glory goes to Him.

He has never left us nor forsaken—
why should we doubt it in these days
when all is being shaken?

Why would He bring us all this way
then say, Good luck, you now are on your own,
go find your way home?

The Liar wants us to believe
that He’s aloof, removed, apart,
but His timeless, faithful witness lives
deep within my heart—

assuring me with every step:
He brings to full completion
everything He starts.

So no matter how the world may look,
nor how I feel today,
I know the record will reveal:
He carried me all the way.

Oh, the sweet, strong guarantee—
Unfaithful to His covenant—
He simply cannot be.

And I will put my trust in this.
It is enough for me.

The mud—the blood—the guts—the gore—
what is this fascination we have with war?
God, of course, is on our side;
so we declare—He sanctifies.

No questions now; just fall in line.
A favored preacher spoke the sign.
Don’t think. Obey. Send youth to die
beneath a holy battle cry.

The cause is noble, so we’re told—
yet in the end, it’s always gold.

Their blood I shed—it stains the sod.
All justified.
I did it in the name of God.