You know those jokes
Told by some folks,
With Saint Peter at the gate?
He won’t have to ask, nor even wait
“Hi! I’m Bob and I’m a Christian!
How are you? What’s up, mister?”
Peter smiles. “Simply marvelous, dear.
Blessed beyond measure, now that you’re here.”
You see, our man is no stranger
To this place with no danger
I wouldn’t be at all surprised
If he’s giving tours to the newly arrived
He’ll meet the apostles and prophets
Full formal names? Nah, just drop it
Jimmy, Jerry, Pete, and Paul
Our beloved man knows ‘em all
They’ll share the verses that each of them wrote
Bob’ll race ‘em and probably quote
And just before he reaches race’s end,
He’ll turn, see, and say, “
You are my Amen!”
He’ll kiss and embrace his Lordly Savior
His presence evermore to savor
By cuttin’ a rug in Heaven’s ballroom
Or standing silent—his only other volume
I knew this man first as a brother,
Then as pastor, mentor—almost a father
Showed me excellence: Don’t fudge it,
Especially when it comes to making a budget
Asked my boys, “Who does your hair?”
(This he never feared: number one, all over there)
We would argue the best way to drive:
Fast and precise or safe, sure to arrive
He sang this truth like it was an ode:
Christians don’t die, only change ZIP codes
Bob lived and led true wisdom from above
But most of all, he showed everyone love
His favorite Bible book was Ecclesiastes
And last of all but certainly not least:
This picture ought not be painted,
But who told you, you were naked?
