Good Life


As I was driving down the highway one day, the number “53” on a truck

Caught my eye and caused me to think of my Dad, who is now gone Home.

When I was a Teenager, he came home one day from SWIFT’S, his work

He sat at our supper table with eyes that were clear solemn, and shone.

He told this day about his many duties on this job, their “Sheep Kill” was,

Especially hard on him that day ‘cuz several lambs came down the line:

As he began to relate, his eyes filled with tears as he began to say, ‘cuz

Lambs were live as they hung by their legs on conveyer belt, no whine!

Dad’s job was to take a little lamb by the ear and hold it steady as so

Gently stuck a sharp butcher knife into its jugular vein to bleed:

The little lambs never made a cry or sound as they began to die, long ago

Little lambs, their pitiful eyes would look at my Dad, lick his hand, feed.

He related with pathos, mixed with tears, said: HARRY get Bible — Read

Turn to ISAIAH 53: read it slow/clear; MOM began to sniffle and cry.

My sisters: Doris, Oneitha, too, then my brother, Norm bowed his head:

I began to read ISAIAH 53: “HE was oppressed and afflicted...” (sigh)

“Yet HE did not open HIS mouth, He was like a lamb, to the Slaughter...”

By this time, we all began to cry and shed some tears; we began to pray:

That “Supper Time” I’ll not forget, my Dad shared his day, no matter;

JESUS is that LAMB; Dad sniffed and cried, nothing else to say....!

You see, this Holy Week, the Significance of number “53” means to me,

A whole lot more than the “length of a truck bed I saw” REDEMPTION.

That’s “...ISAIAH 53...”; It will always be so near and dear .... you see...!

JESUS, GOOD FRIDAY, “53,” Always to me: “MY SALVATION.”