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The Race by mike bullock With elbows pumping to and fro You’re going nowhere very fast On the treadmill of the world But you’re bound to come in last For the finish line is endless You will never reach that rope If you run on earthly octane The prize of life will be a hope. Step down off that moving rat race Learn to rest in One who knows How to pace life’s tribulations One who helps deflect the blows You can head towards the target With a friend who’s run the course Look to Jesus, The pacemaker Tap into his winning force. |
This Christian poem may be used within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission.
Please remember to mention the author of this poem when using.