By Lois Walker Breneman
In memory of her mother, Dorothy Elizabeth Kohr Walker (1921 - 1985)
Written July 1999

As I entered the gate, I beheld Jesus' face!

He said, "Welcome Home, My child, you have finished the race.

You've had much pain and suffering in your earthly life,

But you've been a faithful friend, mother and wife."

"You were dedicated to Me to the very end,

Loving, serving, praying---on Me you did depend.

You searched and read My Word to see how I would lead.

You daily sought My face in prayer, and in your trials would plead."

"You taught your children, in My steps to go.

You were not perfect, but with My help you did grow.

Your goal was to glorify your Savior above,

And to show forth in you, My undying love."

"You have trusted in Me for your payment of sin.

Because you've accepted My gift, I have let you come in

To My Heaven--so glorious--free of death and all sorrow,

Where time is no more--no today or tomorrow."

I looked all around and saw countless happy faces.

Friends gone before were coming from all places

To welcome me Home. We walked all around

The River of Life, so crystal clear, with a rippling sound.

The Lord is our King--so majestic His throne.

The wall is of jasper, adorned with precious stone.

The street is pure gold, like transparent glass,

Surrounded by such beauty of perfect flowers and grass.

There's no need of the sun or the moon to shine,

Illuminated by God's glory so divine.

The Lamb is the Light. There's celestial air.

Nothing to compare in this world anywhere!

There's no heartache or pain in this city foursquare.

Not a single disease, tear, worry or care.

The twelve gates of pearl, the city---pure gold,

In this magnificent Land where we'll never grow old.

I'll be waiting here for you at the gate.

Be sure you are ready. Don't wait too late.

Trust in Christ as your Savior and live for Him there,

For I'm longing to see you, so please meet me there.

I know you may miss me, but don't cry for me.

Stand firm in the faith, until Jesus you see.

Then soon, hand in hand, on the street of pure gold,

We'll walk and we'll talk, in communion untold.