Comfy and cozy in my home so sweet,
Couches and tables, tidy and neat.
Brand new floor—the best one can buy;
Plush, rich carpet to step on and sigh.

A bedroom for each of the members so dear,
Nice warm quilts—the cold I shan’t fear.
Beautiful music fills each lovely room;
Central vacuum—no need for a broom.
Windows that tilt, so easy to clean;
Garage for my car—what more do I need!
Oh, I cannot forget the beautiful lawn,
White picket fence, flowers and all.
Swings for the children, a glider for me,
But, Lord, what is this, oh, what do I see?
Is that a home there on that hill?
It is only of plywood, no window or sill.
He takes me inside, What’s this on the floor?
No beautiful carpet, but dirt door to door.
One room is this home for all members inside,
Who sleep all together when evening draws nigh.
No beautiful music, blankets, or beds,
No quilts or soft pillows to lay weary heads.
No need for a vacuum, a palm branch will do;
To tidy the floor, it serves as a broom.
No dirty windows that tilt in for ease,
This home has no need for any of these.
Oh, Lord, their backyard has no lush grass
For the children to play on, for time to pass.
The swing is a vine from a nearby tree,
No pretty flowers, oh, how can it be!
While I sit in comfort, life filled with ease,
They daily struggle for food to appease.
While I fill my head with your precious word,
Their hearts remain darkened for they haven’t yet heard
Of the hope filled life only Jesus can give,
Of the blessed news a Savior for them lives.
Oh Lord tell me what, what shall I do?
For surely they must be told all about You.
I give You my life and luxuries all,
I give You my family, whatever the call,
I give You whatever You will ask of me,
All, so these captive souls can truly be set free.

I met with God in the morning,
When all was dark and still,
And asked for strength and courage,
His love my heart to fill.

I spent some time before Him,
Bowed low upon my knee,
To thank Him for His mercy,
And that He cares for me.
It seemed to calm my spirit
To be with Him alone.
Oh, what a place of blessing
Before His awesome throne!

I rose to face my duties,
My heart all free from care,
For I had dropped my worries
While kneeling down in prayer!

I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith and love and every grace,
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek more earnestly His face.

Through each day, I slowly mold thee.
Soon my tightening chains enfold thee,
Then it is with ease I hold thee;
Thus, a habit.

I can be both good or vile.
I can even be worth your while
Or the cause of your bitter cry,
I am habit.

Oft I’ve proved myself a pleasure,
Proved myself a priceless treasure
Or a meanness passed all measure
Thus, a habit.

Harmless though I sometimes be,
Yet my strange force is like a magnet
Like a great and greedy dragnet,
I am habit.

Though you sometimes fear or doubt me,
No one yet has lived without me.
I am present all about thee,
Thus, a habit.

Choose me well when you are starting,
Seldom is an easy parting,
I am a devil or a darling.
I am habit.

My soul is not at rest within,
My heart for action calls,
For I have seen the chains of sin,
Have shuddered at its galls.

The vows of God upon my life,
Constrain all strength and nerve.
His call has pierced me as a knife;
Him only will I serve!

The voice of loved ones, freedom, fame,
Have all grown strangely dim;
My heart’s desire’s now informed,
To fully follow Him!

He was a man of sorrows, grief
His footsteps now I trace;
Dare I search out selfish relief,
While He has run the race?

But, no! I too shall fight the fight
Which He has planned for me!
No matter what the cost of right,
E’en this my cause shall be:

To tell of all His wond’rous love,
Salvation’s call so free.
And point souls to my Lord above
Who’s done so much for me.

You think it as a sacrifice
To leave this secure land,
Forsaking comforts oh, so nice
And houses which are grand;

But I am thinking of my Lord
Who left His deity,
Upon the ground His blood was poured
Purchased salvation free.

So someday, in a far-off land
My dying eyes I’ll lift,
To gaze on Afric’s burning sand,
My life lay down—a gift.

Then when on heaven’s golden shore
The natives sing His praise;
My heart with joy shall swell yet more
And there thanksgiving raise!