The Thief On The Cross

Paul Harwood

Today, as they nailed the three of us to a cross,

I knew time had run out and that I was lost.

The people were shouting, I did not know why.

Must have been this Jesus they hung me by.

I turned to see if He had expired,

But the pain I felt set me on fire.

I tried to say something, but couldn’t begin.

Hanging next to Jesus made me aware of my sin.

The longer we hung there, the worse it got,

While Roman soldiers laughed and cast their lot.

I knew this was the last time I’d ever speak.

My life is ending—I feel so weak.

What could I say to this Jesus on the cross?

But—“When you come into your kingdom, remember me, I’m lost.”

He looked at me as He raised His head.

“Truly today, you shall be with me in paradise,” He said.

When I heard His words, I knew they were true.

That’s why Jesus came to earth; to die for me and for you.

The meaning of this story, this poem that I tell,

Is for you to trust in Jesus, to stay out of hell.

So, before your time has come to an end;

Which way will you choose to follow, my dear friend?

To heaven above, or hell below?

You alone can determine the way you will go.