I can't contain this thing inside
It grows with each new morn
And helps me see the needs so real
Of lonely and forlorn
Of hurting and self-loathing
In town, at work, next door
Of all the ones in need of Christ
I never saw before.
It makes no sense to plead the case
Of those I never knew
But pray I do, and comfort too
For truly Lord, it's You.
You walk these streets and offer smiles
And help the old to cope
You hug a child and calm the wild
And give the hungry hope.
It's not a job; a life instead
To serve the Man of Peace
So use this clay, yes e'en today
In wondrous Love's release.