I crept forward into heaven, my heart filling with dismay.
A Recording Angel stopped me with a stern, unwavering look,
I could go no further, until he checked my name in his golden book.
He found my name but there followed a BLANK. Nothing! Nothing! How my heart sank!
The angel let me go and I didn't know what to think. all I could see in my mind's eye was that empty space with no golden ink!
Then I saw angels passing out crowns to saints in long lines,
all were glorious and specially made, with jewels of all kinds.
Again an angel stopped me with that stern, commanding look,
and found my name, but saw the blank that followed in his book.
"No crown for you, so step aside," he said.
Hearing that, I cannot say how painful my heart bled.
As saints pressed by me to pick up all their crowns,
I heard them cry out with joy beyond all bounds.
Finding a spot to myself by a rock and a weeping willow,
I saw down alone with my head bowed in sorrow.
"Are there other souls here like me?
who have no crowns to cast before Christ on the crystal sea?
Though servant, I am unprofitable, arriving in heaven scant and pitiful,
my robe is threadbare, ragged and torn,
not glorious, but shameful and forlorn.
I stood on God's Promises, until my last day,
yet this is how I stilllook--what can I say?
Just as I was thinking this, a shadow crept by,
a creature who gave forth a mournful sigh.
His words were echoes of my own--
word for word, in the very same tone!
I could not help it, I went over to him.
He sank to his knees, his eyes joyless and dim.
I put my arm around him, the most I could do,
and together we shed tears, and not a few.
Then Jesus came walking amidst shining throngs,
and crowned elders and saints, rejoicing, sang glad praise songs.
Yet Jesus paused in their m idst, and strange look cross His face,
as if he recalled the thief on the cross who died in deep disgrace.
"Come close to Me," He said, "and lean on My breast.
It is here you are honored to take eternal rest."
Left alone by myself, my tears flowed all the more,
until they ran out across the crystal floor.
"Angels gasped, and crowned saints drew back as Christ's pierced foot stepped in my tears.
"What have I done?" I felt shame burn my ears.
Yet suddenly Jesus was holding my hand,
and He drew me--me!--into another, brighter land,
He spoke to me alone, so sweet and low, as I clung hard to Him, begging him to never go.
"It was YOUR tears, lifelong, not your deeds I prized."-- Something I coujld have never, never surmised.
And then He showed me hills and mountains of sparkling delights:
"These are Mine only--and only you and I will ever gaze on these rare sights."
I sank at His precious feet and bathed them anew,
and they sparkled with pure diamonds, like flowers with the dew.
How long we were there, I can not tell.
But as for my uncrowned soul, I can say:
"it is well. It is well!"