The Christ was cruelly crucified in
that tumultuous Passover season,
So your life was shattered and shaken,
and you surrendered to the god of Reason;
You started to sound like a practical pagan,
and not like a Christian apostle,
For you to believe Jesus rose from the dead,
it would take a miracle very colossal.
The other apostles saw Jesus alive,
and that’s why their faces turned pale,
But to you this sounded like a stupid story,
like a fantastical fairy tale;
With stony sarcasm you scoffed at them,
and you told them you needed proof,
Without some truly indisputable facts,
it seemed like an apostolic goof.
But a week later you were with them
as He walked right through the wall,
Your dark eyes now twinkled in the Light,
and tears of faith began to fall;
Then you looked closer at Jesus’ flesh,
and it was ripped by a Roman lance,
So you crumbled to your knees in humility,
and you melted in His merciful glance.
Your soul had dried up in the desert of reason,
with troubling doubts all around,
But now in this flash flood of Living Water,
they very, very quickly drowned;
You then became the apostle of India,
as your journeys led to the East,
Helping many people find their way,
to the Heavenly wedding feast.