We don't have a big cathedral
With a bright and shiny dome;
Just a humble little building,
But it kinda makes you feel at home.
We don't own a grand pipe organ,
Or a choir in uniform array;
But the power of God is present
When our deacons kneel to pray.

Our congregation isn't large
And our incomes aren't great;
And we have no wealthy people
Loading up the offering plate.
Yet we'll never have to close our doors
Because our debts we cannot pay,
'Cause the Father hears and answers
When our deacons kneel to pray

Now I've never really been there
But I know what I've been told
About these men who meet so faithfully
To pray for the young and old.
And I cannot help but realize
The results along the way
When the pastor joins the deacons
And they kneel again to pray.

They aren't chosen for their knowledge
For their fortune, fame or power,
But they've given their all to Jesus
Serving Him each day -- Each hour.
And I know this is the reason
That the blessings come our way
'Cause the power of God is present
When our deacons kneel to pray.

I like to think we are a family
Losing self in helping others
And the deacons -- well, to me --
They're kinda like big brothers.
And when we are having trials
And our skies seem dark and gray
I just know our names are uttered
As our deacons kneel to pray.

Sometimes I wish that I could be
Just close enough to hear them pray
To feel the presence of the Lord
In such a real and mighty way.
To rejoice with them o'er victories
To weep with them for those astray
When the pastor and the deacons
At the altar kneel to pray.