Our daughter-in-law, Jessica, just drew our attention to a poem by the Swiss hymn-writer, Henri Malan, who wrote over 1000 hymns in the early 1800’s. About 25% of the hymnal we used in the Evangelical Church, Lausanne, Switzerland. where I was baptized, were written by him. This is a very timely poem in light of what our friend and neighbor, Avery Willis, is going through. This is a reminder that this world is not our home, we’re just passing through.

It is not death to die
To leave this weary road,
And midst the brotherhood on high
To be at home with God.

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed by tears,
And wake in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breathe the air
Of boundless liberty.

It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise in strong exulting wing
To live among the just.

Jesus, Thou Prince of Life!
Thy chosen cannot die;
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with Thee on high.

H.A.C. Malan.
Trans. by G.W. Bethune.

“O death, where is your sting?
O grave, where is your victory?!!