Lord I have a heavy burden of all I've seen and know
It's more than I can handle
But your word is burning like a fire shut up in my bones
and I cannot let it go
And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought
I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharaoh's court
I hear his call for freedom for the people of the Lord
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul
I see the young missionary and the angry spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear
I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sisters standing by the dying man's side
I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door
I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
It's more than I can handle
But your word is burning like a fire shut up in my bones
and I cannot let it go
And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought
I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharaoh's court
I hear his call for freedom for the people of the Lord
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul
I see the young missionary and the angry spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear
I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sisters standing by the dying man's side
I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door
I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
-When the Saints by Sara Groves
What are we doing?!?! There's a world that needs Christ, and we are his hands...we can not avoid the responsibility, we can not turn our head any longer...its time for the Church to open the doors and reach the streets...
No comments:
Post a Comment