Friday Night

Come buy my War Cry,
Listen and hear,
Spend your cash on this paper,
And not on your beer.

Are we out to collect?
Are we after the cash?
Get the coins in our bag,
And then make a dash?

There’s more than the paper,
Or money at stake,
If into the hotels,
The Lord’s love we take.

Fill the bag up with money,
Soothe a heart that is sore,
Need we pause to inquire,
Which God values more?

There’s some that will scorn,
And there’s some that will scoff,
And some will approach
With a sigh and a cough.

With a half spoken query,
Or an uncertain quest,
And the more they need Jesus,
The more we are blest.

We could speak out the Scripture,
And quote verse by verse,
But without Jesus’ love,
It will only get worse.

So we go week by week,
No results seem to show,
But the love of the Spirit,
Will help these seeds grow.

We may not see the fruit,
Of these plantings we make,
But we plant seeds and pray,
All for Jesus’ Name’s sake.
© 15/6/97