From the Pastor's Window
I often stand at my window and view the church across the way
And thank the Lord for leading me each moment of the day.
I’m ever mindful of God' s love and of His matchless grace
And trust that I might faithful be until I see His face.
I think of all the little tots as precious as my own
And pray that I can lead them to the Heavenly Father's throne.
I’m ever mindful of the teenaged group so full of pep and vim
I pray to God that I may help to keep them close to Him.
I thank Him for the grown—ups, too, who labor here with me
That we may share God's riches throughout Eternity.
I Iook out my window and I see the church across the way
And I thank God that He chose me to fill the pulpit today.
I think of all the happiness we've shared; my people and I
Then I'm reminded of sad times, too, when I have wanted to cry.
Sometimes it's such a friendly place, God's presence is so near.
Then comes a cold indifference that grips my heart with fear.
Sometimes our fellowship is gay; we share a laugh or two
Then cheer the broken-hearted as the Lord would have us do.
There's always great rejoicing when a soul is born anew
And solemn understanding as a new grave we must view.
From my window I look out to the church across the way
And I see my little office where I slip away to pray.
I've walked the path so many times that leads to its doors
Its walls are so familiar; its ceilings and its floors.
I know each nook and corner of the church across the road
I even know how much it cost to build this fine abode.
I know the hours of toil in the sunshine and the rain
the never-ceasing efforts in spite of aches and pains.
I know because I helped to build the church across the way
And may times felt very weary at the closing of the day.
As from my window I behold the building over there
I humbly bow my head and heart and whisper up a prayer
That our people might be conscious of the work that's still undone
In telling those around us of God's gift - His Precious Son.
I see it as a lighthouse for souls still lost in sin
A haven for the weary who desire a new life to begin.
Oh, may we never feel, dear Lord, that we have done our bit
Or be incomplacently content on the cushioned pews to sit
But may our eyes be fixed on Thee; our thoughts on Things above
As together in our church we labor in Christian fellowship and love.