The road behind is strewn with dust, Of dreams once bright, now turned to rust. But grace, not guilt, shall light my way— For I was never meant to stay.
The past may whisper, plead, or cry, But I lift my gaze toward the sky. Forgetting chains that held me fast, I walk unbound—no longer cast.
Each step, though weary, draws me near, To what is holy, pure, and clear. Not for this world’s fleeting gain, But for the crown that comes through pain.
The prize is Christ—my hope, my song, The call that pulls my heart along. I press ahead, through storm and fire, Fueled by a deeper, heaven-born desire.
No turning back, no pause, no end, Just faith in Him—my Lord, my Friend. For upward still my soul shall soar, To meet the One I’m striving for.
“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13–14 (NIV)
