He’s Real

March 11, 2020

On wooden pews when just a lad
I heard the songs, some loud, some sad.

I’d lay my head on Mother’s lap,
Drift off to sleep and take a nap.

My aunt shared stories from God’s word,
She talked and drew, I saw and heard.

The stories told, the words, the songs
All seemed to say “Yes, he belongs.”

I heard the words but had to see,
God sent his Son, He died for me.

I had to say “You are my Lord.
I’ll walk with You in one accord.”

I came to know the Lord is real,
Not words or songs or how I feel.

He’s there in times I go astray.
He takes my hand, shows me the way.