Assurance

There's gangs insist that it comforts to know
Oneself toes to heaven, ever secure.
O Dear, their faith has its heady allure:
Not the aroma of Christ to God though.
For God's grandeur in all aspects will show
Patience, wrath the damned, mercy to the pure,
And accomplish His ends in me as sure,
Heaven or hellward, whichever I'll go.

For the real God-centered this ought suffice:
One, joy! regardless where he shall be cast,
Ineluctably the standard will trice.
Still God, to mast, bind, hold the high point fast;
I'd rather willingly hug Your device,
You loveworthy whether I'm picked or passed.

Ben Douglass
April 21, Anno Domini MMIX