When I'm Called Home

When I breathe my last upon this earth,

Don’t be sad and filled with pain.

My purpose will be completed.

What I’ve longed for, I’ve attained.



Don’t shed a tear, but smile instead.

My death is not the end.

I’m still living ~ just on a higher plane,

With Jesus ~ my dearest friend.



When my earthly body is lowered,

Into the cold, dark, dreary ground.

It won’t lie there forever,

Only ‘til the trumpet’s sound.



Please etch upon my headstone,

The date God gave me birth.

But enter not the month and year,

He took me from this earth.



My spirit will still be living,

For I was saved by grace.

I’ll be dwelling with my Savior.

In that glorious, heavenly place.



And when the final trumpet sounds,

First the dead in Christ shall rise.

Then my body that was buried,

Will be caught up in the skies.



It will meet there with my spirit.

And the two shall be entwined.

To form the perfect body,

That my precious Lord designed.



If God has not yet called you,

Before that final trumpet sounds,

You’ll be changed and rise to meet Him,

For you, too, are Heaven bound.



Emily McAdams

Mar 2003


Written for my husband should God call me first.

[ by Emily McAdams Copyright © 2003 -- submitted by: Emily McAdams ]