I held Our Book in my two hands,
And pressed it to my breast;
As peace and warmth swept over me,
I knew I had been blest.
I'm lonely, God, I prayed aloud,
I'm ready to come Home.
"Oh, no!" God said. "The time's not right,
I can't bring you to my throne."
But, God! I pleaded selfishly,
Don't tell me this is so.
He sighed, "You still have work to do,
It's not time for you to go."
So many friends have left me, God,
And loved ones have gone, too.
"Hold on!" He said. There's other souls
Much lonelier than you."
But, God, I said, I'm lost myself ...
What can I do or say?
"Listen, and I'll tell you ...
First, bow your head and pray."
"Reach out your hand ... stretch out your arms,
And hug each hurting man;
And tell him that you love him ...
That you're part of Jesus' plan."
"And when you've done that many times,
So many ... you lose count,
Then, dear one," God said to me,
I'll lead you to the fount."
"And only when your love is spent
On so many men alone,
Will I know you're truly ready,
For Me to bring you home."