| |
| (Written for one of our deacons |
| who, for some reason, |
| quit coming to church.) |
| |
| How many times along your way |
| The things we do, the words we say |
| Have helped a friend along the way |
| And made his day a brighter day. |
| |
| How many times along the way |
| A careless deed, some word we say |
| Has hurt a friend along the way |
| And made his day a sadder day. |
| |
| But, oh, the times along the way |
| We just don't take the time to say |
| "I missed not seeing you today |
| I think of you each time I pray." |
| |
| Forgive us, friend, we ask today |
| For just not taking time to say |
| We miss you when we meet to pray |
| And at each service on the Lord's day. |
| |
| What troubles you along the way |
| Enough to make you stay away? |
| We cannot know nor would not say |
| We'll just hold on to God and pray. |
