My Poetic Journey Home

My House As long as I’ve existed, In this earthly realm of time, My soul has been protected By a house that God designed; A house in His own image, A dwelling only meant for me; He knew just what I needed And what my house was meant to be. My house would not be perfect, ‘Cause I was born of mortal man, I’ve come short of God’s glory, But my life is in His hand; And through my years of growing, It’s been battered and been bruised, But my house has a purpose And it’s here for God to use; My hands to be used as His hands, To serve those in need of care, Those who could not help themselves, When their lives have not been fair. My tongue to be used to comfort, Some lost soul who cannot see, That all things work together, No matter where their life might be; Then use my feet to journey And follow where ever I am led, To share the wisdom of God’s Word, So hungry souls may then be fed; Then no matter where He leads me And no matter what I must do, I pray that He’ll be with me And will help me make it through; ‘Cause my house is growing older, It is showing signs of wear, But it can still be of service When it finds its strength through prayer. This house was not meant to last Beyond what God so deemed to give, Each of us our own portion, Of time that we have set to live; Then one day, I’ll have a new house, I may not know how it will be, But I know I won’t have to move, ‘Cause I’ll live there eternally.