In tents you pray to stay away
from home in all its glory

“My will” you say, your comfort may
refuse My grace outpouring

My dear son why did you run
from the only life worth living?

My rod and staff, the fatted calf
My grace I am still giving

My only child, so meek and mild
all truth and justice knowing

You once were lost but now you’re found
love like a river flowing

So now you’re back, on selfless track
and for the broken caring

No judgement lies behind your eyes
My hands and feet you’re bearing

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