Each human heart is like a book
To God each page is bear
If Jesus now would take a look
What would our lives declare?
What truth to God will soon unfold?
What truth, would you have seen?
Can you before His face stand bold?
Are all your pages clean?
Or would you like some pages lost
A word erased or two
Is but the cover gold embossed?
Inside’s unfit to view
What shadow will the light reveal?
What secret will it share?
When Jesus opens wide your seal
Will you be in despair?
One thing God gives to understand
One thing our eyes must see
The pen He’s placed within our hand
Is ours to write with free!
What shade today will be your ink?
What colour will you write?
Will word and deed to Heaven stink?
Or be to God’s delight?
It matters not how old our books
How tattered bent or frayed
Its when inside The Author looks
And sees how each was made
Beware of when the books are read
Of what we now write down
Only the hands The Author’s led
Receive from Him life’s crown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem