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Great it is to dream the dream
when you stand in youth
by the starry stream.
But a greater thing is to fight
life through, and say at the end
'the Dream is true'.

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































As his clothes turn glory white
Preparing as Christ's Bride
As angels clapped a joyful thunder
Legions at his side

As each hair that you have numbered
Glistens in array
And saints of old and precious faces
Became his parade


There is no song we can sing
No words that spell your glory
No poem rhyme that justly rings
Can tell the wondrous story
Jesus sweet Jesus
Heavenly King
Merciful ointment
Death did not sting


John longed to see your face, Dear Lord
And touch Amazing Grace
To hear You whisper "Well done, son"
As your pierced hands embrace


He humbly walked your Holy steps
Your precious path to trace
All his dreams could not prepare
For the love that paints Your face


To kiss Your Feet and shout Your Name
And savor Holy Breath
Dancing though heaven, glorified
Because You conquered death


Contentment finally has a Master
As Your pierced hands embrace
Pastor's living in blessed assurance
And touching Amazing Grace










copyright 8/2002
Janet Horton










































The echo of his love and the ripple effect Pastor John Osteen's memory evokes, will always have the pulse of God's anointing as its mantle. To this day anyone who says..."why I remember when Pastor John"...will cause the room to become silent. With bated breath, every ear turns toward the orator and silently we wait for the whisper of love that gently breezes in as the story unfolds. Holy butter pours on us as we savor each word, each memory, each detail of his reflection.

The sadness is only in the moment, when the story ends. It does not matter if we have heard it before; it does not matter if we know it by heart. Stories of Pastor John are holy notes wrapped around our heartstrings. Each note brings us to cadence and attention, as his army of soldiers listen about their general, who graduated with honors. Spoken memories of Pastor John build monuments of tears that we keep tucked away in our spiritual treasure boxes. If he was in a crowded room, he was not hard to find. You only had to look for the man who looked just like Jesus, and there would be Pastor John, giving away God's love as a trusted servant.

Pastor John was a taste of heaven. His aroma was so sweet and potent. He painted Christ's reflection, and drew in the undone. He brought in the prodigal with each word he emptied into hungry and starving souls.

Of course he was a man, a human being. No doubt he made mistakes, failed God on occasion, and counted to ten more than he should have. Yet, if ever new morning mercies were needed less, it was in the person of Pastor John Osteen. His repentent heart kept the flow of God's love rushing out like the beauty of a waterfall, as it pounded into enemy weapons that never had chance to form. Yes,the devil knew John Osteen. The mention of any Osteen causes the devil himself to shudder. Eventually, as Pastor John often said in jest, the devil just gave up and flew "past" his house, out of frustation, disgust and weariness.

God's mercy was Pastor John Osteen's coat of many colors. Condemnation was never a tool he used in the pulpit, or out of it. He melted each heart he touched with a recipe of grace from the Father Above. It was his obedience to God, day in and day out, that caused his measure of love to be Supernaturally potent. His Texas drawl and his corny jokes were an ambiance that drew in the spiritually blind and hugged the homeless heart of the rich and the poor.

God's unconditional Love was Pastor John's anchor and sail. God's love was so worn on him, eventually his every acquaintance received instant revelation: that he was the same in and out of the pulpit. His parables and teachings from the Holy Ghost revealed it was never too late, even for the "worst sinner", to be all that God could ask of him. Pastor John was merciful to a fault and seeds he planted are still harvested to this day. It is a heavenly soil that continues to grow crops of miracles and breaks generational curses. Now at Glorious Way Church Pastor John Greiner carries on that same tradition, as one trained under the hand of a master teacher. There is no labor in vain, no house of sand and pebbles, that can invade the Holy Dirt of God. When the Lord builds a house, the favor that rests upon it is timeless and majestic.

Love is still the harvested crop at Glorious Way Church. It is the Grace of our Father God who breathes favor and majesty into each heart, willing and obedient. The seeds planted into our Spiritman shall transfer our hearts to a new place, a new Holy Ground. Every day our army is added to heaven's count, a harvest from decades of holy dreams. Pastor John Greiner continues to stomp on the enemy, fearless and determined. He is new wine, from a crop of love that shall never die.

The heart's desire of Pastor John Osteen has been fulfilled to overflowing and his vision continues on in all of his children because his seed was love, not greed. His ministry was Isaac and not Ishmael. His faith was birthed on bended knee and his dreams still manifest, still harvest and still impregnate the hungry heart. He did not labor in vain, for his pupil John Greiner remained true to his teaching and the result is the harvest of Glorious Way Church.

Glorious Way's house of warriors, burning with vision, with seed and with memory, are running with the prize. The race still goes on, and far ahead, in heaven's parade is Pastor John, leading us toward victory, towards Jesus, toward the dream that is true.