1443) Prayers at the Twilight of Life

Arthur O. Roberts

From Prayers at Twilight, by Arthur O. Roberts, (1923-2016), 2003, Barclay Press.  Roberts wrote a book Exploring Heaven to describe what the Bible and great Christian thinkers have said about heaven.  As he was writing that, he was also writing prayers about the end of this life and the anticipation of the life to come in heaven.  Here are some of the poems/prayers from the collection of them published in Prayers at Twilight.



My friend says one should be content

with this life, make the most of it,

and not whine for second chances.

I pondered this, and then I thought

about this guy wrongly imprisoned, 

locked up twenty years, on death row

part of the time.  I think of children

blown to bits by terrorists, people 

starved in gulags, gassed by Nazis,

people gunned down by drug dealers,

innocent and helpless civilians sacrificed

as ‘collateral damage’ in political wars,

and it struck me that hope for heaven

is a reasonable requirement for justice,

as well as a gift of your love, Lord.



Lord, I’ve got Alzheimer’s

I don’t know my own family

sometimes, and can’t tell the nurse

who our president is.  But I know you!

Lead me through this tunnel, Lord,

and in heaven make me whole again.



Lord, yesterday my neighbor and I discussed death.

A heart attack put him in a serious mood.

He’s a retired professor and legislator.

His affluent children support art museums,

his grandkids trek the globe for green causes.

Mac says he’s ready to bow out gracefully, 

content to let his influence live on.

Claims it’s the noble thing to do.

I don’t buy this.

From what I learned in Sunday school

I figured on a more personal afterlife.

Besides, I don’t have kids, bright or otherwise.

Who’s right, Lord?



In my alumni magazine letters writers

argue about religion.  Recently one alumna

claimed human thought has evolved

in every area but religion.  We must not,

said she, let the Bible, or even Jesus,

hinder evolutionary progress

that brings better religious ideas.

Lord, I’m weary of these attacks

on Christian beliefs and believers.

Who does this gal think she is, telling me

in effect, sorry old timer, but we now know

these Bible stories aren’t true.  Well, when

twenty/thirty years later she faces death

as I do now, will she believe the same thing?

Or will she say, oops, God, I guess

my ideas weren’t so good after all.



Lord, I don’t travel much anymore.

Went to the Columbia ice fields last year.

But most of the scenes I view now

are inside my head.  Some are vivid,

like seeing that dirty trench near St. Lo,

the red blood spurting from my leg.

and that German boy’s face–

before I blew it away.  I never talk

to anyone about this, except you, Lord.

Maybe I’ll meet that boy in heaven.

That would be okay.  We’ll recognize 

and forgive each other, and maybe you

will give us constructive work to do 

together, somewhere in the cosmos.

Yeah, I’d like that…



When I was young we kids were afraid of hell.

Now, it seems, young folks are afraid of heaven.

They can’t imagine anything more exciting

than their affluent lifestyle.  Skiing every Sunday.

Shopping at the mall.  TV celebrity shows.

Making scads of money, getting stock options.

They don’t fear you, Lord, they ignore you.

Maybe a depression would do them good.

Or a service stint in Somalia.  I know, Lord,

when you’re young  heaven talk is taboo, 

too gloomy, too threatening.  Was for me once.

But I wish they would learn soon that fear

of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.



Lord, the last enemy is death, 

that’s for sure.  Well, it’s combat time

for me.  Fight with me.  Oh, crucified Jesus

help me bear the penetrating pain

and this slow, sad phase of parting

from dear ones whom I love.

Share with me, Lord, your triumph

over sin and death while my life lingers,

then walk me through the heavenly door.



Lord, scenarios about heaven make no sense to me.

How can predators live harmoniously with prey?

How can dead bodies, or their ashes, reassemble?

How can there be cycles of life without death?

How can there be both time and eternity?

But then I gaze at the Milky Way on a warm night.

I hear waves crashing rhythmically against the shore,

I ponder the incredible spread of intelligent life

across planet earth, even if not always used wisely.

But mostly I think about Jesus, heaven’s great sign,

about his redeeming death, and his resurrection.

I hear him say: “I go to prepare a place for you.”

Mind then yields to spirit, and my spirit yields to you.

“Yes, Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief.”


John 14:1-6  —  (Jesus said), “Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me.  In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.  And you know the way where I am going.”  Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?”  Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.”

Mark 9:24b  —  “I believe; help my unbelief!”