Love, like a river, is flowing to the throne,

FROM God and TO God, it carries us back home.

Cast out from the garden, into the world we went

blocked from going back, by angels, heaven sent.

 

Wandering through the landscape of thistles, sticks and stones,

laboring for food to eat, crying out with tears and groans,

far from home, from God and love, strangers in a foreign land,

we toiled without result until He revealed His hand.

 

He scooped us up, the clay He formed, and into us He came

filling us with His own life, giving us His name.

He stamped us with His DNA, His image reflected back.

He saw in us, His firstborn Son, in whom there is no lack.

 

The river carried us onward, through life we thought our own,

until we glimpsed the crystal sea, shimmering beneath His throne.

We knew we were bound for glory; what a journey it has been,

but the hardships were made easier, knowing they came from Him.

 

On all the rocky paths, the cliffs, the mountains we had to climb,

it was His hand on us which lifted us into His mind,

to see what He sees and know what He knows, the beginning from the end.

In praise and adoration, eternity with Him we'll spend.

 

The river of love cannot be blocked, for it flows from God's own Son;

ever deeper and wider and richer, including everyone,

black and white, rich and poor, Jew and Greek as well.

The power of love has delivered us from the very gates of hell.

 

Flow, river, flow, from bank to bank the flood;

we drink eternal life from You, the fountain filled with blood.

We sit with You, our Father, in the heavenlies on your throne,

transported by the river of love which has carried us back home.

 

Written in Sky Valley Park, by Jan Antonsson, 3/6/02

 

Jan and Lenny Antonsson

 

17178 Highway 59, Neosho, MO 64850 (Snail Mail)

The Glory Road

We always enjoy hearing from you!

jantonsson@aol.com

This page was uploaded to the web on 3/10/92

by Jan Antonsson, Webmeister,

and last edited on 6/24/09.