When our earthly stay comes to an end, To this one question we might attend: How much of the time You assigned For us on Your Earth to be confined Did we choose to commune with You Compared to all else that we did do? A good measure, this might be said, Of how our life on Earth we had led.

Life here is short, and soon we’ll go, This sure fact we must all well know. From here we’ll head to the Judgment Seat, Where the Lord God we’ll have to meet, Getting from Him the decree He’ll give On how on His Earth we each did live. Let us be of this at all times aware, So that of our life we’ll take good care.

Birth and death, together bound, How the two our minds astound! They a couple from an ancient tale, The first, then the second, without fail, For every man, bird, plant and beast, From in size the biggest to the least. This fact we well know is truly so, But why, we don’t now fully know. Maybe one day You’ll share with us Why it is You arranged things thus.

I long sought to know about You more But became more confused than before, For, folks about You varied things told, Pressing their claims in manner bold.   I thought then in books I would find The solution to confusions in my mind, But after many books about You I read, Finally to this firm conclusion I was led:   That all I needed to know about You Was what for even a child would do, Such as that You’re the world’s one king, The creator of every being and thing, That this va

Are we here on Earth alive Merely in order to survive, To spend some time and then die, But not knowing the reason why?   Or, is there a purpose grander more That the Lord God has kept in store, Which He’ll reveal to us if we ask, Yes, if we’ll simply do this one task?

Make us feel Your guiding hand As we pass through Earth’s land, Certain that You’re leading us on Till at last from here we’re gone. Of this one fact make us be sure Now, and also, forever more.   Your guiding hand is our need, For us to follow where it may lead. Receiving thus Your bounteous grace, Every hurdle we can fearlessly face, Rejoicing that You hold our hand, This may we clearly understand!

What God is like we better came to know When as a human He Himself did show And as Jesus among us He did appear: God in the form of a human mere.

When I worry, when I fear, I must turn to You, my Dear, You, the nearest of all near, Sure that my plea You’ll hear To set my aching heart at rest, Handling it the way that’s best, So that I can pass life’s every test And carry on this journey with zest.

For what purpose, please tell me Dear, Have You've placed us on Earth here? We find ourselves alive in a world where, as far as we can recall, we didn’t choose to be and where we must spend a while—a few decades at the very most—and then depart. What, we might wonder, is the ultimate purpose, if any, of this elaborate exercise: of arriving here, spending some time and then departing? The quest to know if this earthly life does indeed have an ultimate purpose becomes even more

Won’t You my curiosity satisfy And say to me the reason why Life on Earth we must undergo, For, this purpose I don’t know.   I wish I knew, I wish You’d tell, In words clear to me You’d spell, Why You’ve made it thus to be, Oh, please explain it all to me!   Some may say this life’s absurd, But I won’t agree till I’ve heard From Your lips this bold claim, Confirming this to be the same.   Till then my hope I won’t let die That there’s a good reason why You make us here a whil

Why, I wonder, have You put us here, On Your Earth, for a short time mere. Maybe it’s a game You make us play, Other than this, what can one say? It’s You who decide, You who decree, And for us it’s only to meekly agree. We can’t say ‘No’, we just can’t refuse, Perhaps all we can do is simply muse About the reason You've put us here. Isn’t that so, won’t You tell me, Dear? Maybe what’s true we just can’t know Until from here You'll make us go.

We each are here for an allotted span, So, let’s do as much good as we can. It’s just for a short while we're here, Let’s love as much as we can, my dear. No purpose can there be more grand, This I'm sure you'll well understand. Now that I’ve said what I had to say, Come, let’s love and do good today!

Wherever we turn, all that we see, Whatever around us that may be, The beings and things we behold, All these from Yourself You unfold, Each separate, by itself, we presume, But it’s You who these forms assume. Who can fathom this strange display? Maybe it’s just a drama, Your way of play.

All that on us might befall, It’s You who alone does it all. We’re puppets for Your play, Being made to do just as You say As here we spend our allotted time, Not sure for what reason or rhyme.

We’re like pieces on a chessboard In a game that’s played by the Lord, From here to there He has us move, Till from the board us He’ll remove, Doing as He pleases to do with us, Amusing Himself in manner thus.

The measure of a life’s success Is the love that it could express And how far in love it could go. This one fact is enough to know The purpose of our stay on Earth And the measure of a life of worth.

With name and form how they obsess, Sole Truth they each claim to possess, Just see the havoc they thus make, All supposedly just for Your sake. How much longer will You tolerate This strife, conflict and deep hate? Please cause it all to at once cease And turn this hate into love, please.

The purpose ourselves we can’t comprehend Of our being on Earth till we reach the end. Why we’ve been brought to Earth’s domain A mystery maybe it’s been decreed to remain. No matter how far in knowledge we may grow This secret on our own we can’t ever know. In our ‘cleverness’ many theories we invent As this grand mystery we seek to circumvent, Yet, despite all this, there’s no way we can Through our own efforts know the plan For why on Earth we’ve been made to stay Till one

With name and form how they obsess, Truth each claims only they possess. Blessed am I that I could see through The fanciful tales they tell about You And then was able to myself say: "I’ll commune with You in my own way."

Can we ourselves a good reason give For why we’re here being made to live, With pain and pleasure having to contend Right till we meet this our journey’s end, And joy and sorrow being made to face, As we rush ahead as if in some mad race, To a destination none knows for certain, Till soon descends death’s final curtain? Is this a punishment or a great reward? We can’t say—only You know, my Lord.