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      "LORD, Don't Ask Me..."

      Monday, September 3, 2007


      I'm just a weak-kneed Christian,
      So, LORD, don't ask of me
      That I go to the Battle front
      To do exploits there for Thee.

      I like to read of courage
      And Christians who make their mark;
      But, LORD, that's surely not for me;
      I'm quiet and hate the dark!

      I sometimes lie in bed at night,
      And it upsets my quiet
      To think of heathen far away,
      Diseased and drunk in riot.

      O LORD, a coward then I feel
      As in my bed I sink;
      I'd like to sleep, forget it all,
      But I just think and think.

      I muse on that great final day
      When at Thy throne I stand,
      With flaming eyes You look at me
      And, under great duress,
      I see excuses torn from me;
      I stand in nakedness

      And hear You say, "You called me 'LORD,'
      And did not things I say.
      You missed your glorious, great reward,
      You toyed your life away.

      "You did not read and pray aright,
      Gave time to eat and drink,
      And left the heathen far away
      To fall, fall right o'er the brink

      "Of time, to hell's eternity
      To grope in endless night.
      You could have stretched a hand to save,
      You could have changed that plight

      "Less comfort had you had on earth;
      Then scores of precious souls
      Had got the truth, and by your help
      Had reached God's offered goals."

      From all my folly, LORD, I turn,
      I'll do as well as say;
      And, from this hour, may all my works
      Survive the judgment day.






      - Leonard Ravenhill

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