This life is a vapor and then it is gone,

We cannot expect it to last very long.

Ninety years, one hundred, one twenty at best,

Then we will enter a long season of rest.

 

If then our life is a mist oh so brief,

Let us guard against moth, against rust, against thief.

If we allow the thief to come and to plunder,

Small things at a time, there’s no reason to wonder. 

 

To wonder why our reward has dwindled,

Only because we allowed ourselves swindled.

Swindled of mountains of eternal treasure,

For the fleeting combustion of soulish pleasure.

 

What a trade to make, what a foolish deal,

But we don’t see it as such when temptations are real. 

Temptations do come and they look very daunting, 

But the thought of the loss is even more haunting. 

 

By our own devices we cannot withstand,

But an earnest prayer later, Christ puts out His hand.

A hand that was pierced for the very transgression,

We’re tempted to walk in without confession. 

 

That hand will bring us all that we need,

Perhaps a stripe, a wound that will bleed.

Or perhaps He provides a way to get out,

Or a touch of comfort, or maybe a drought.

 

Whatever is best, He is sure to provide,

He’s fighting our battles and turning the tide.

All that we need is to ask, seek and knock,

Then we no longer fear the sound of ‘tick tock.’ 

 

Yes, our life is fleeting and slipping away, 

Sometimes we grow weary and everything’s gray.

But it’s all leading to something better,

If we break every chain, every hold, every fetter.

 

If we do this we have an overcomer’s reward,

Waiting in heaven for years He has stored. 

Stored in great houses for every deed done,

In the name of the Father, the Spirit, the Son.