Trevor McCauley

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The Missionary's Song

As the heat trespasses upon dusty ground

Is it safe to pray aloud?

Has the wind brought confusion to our minds

Can we offer up thanks even though we are blind?

This is the exhaustion that comes with every day

Too long I have been removed by the wait

Silence eats up all the words we could exchange

For you know why, Lord, I am held at bay

But I am not alone

Buried in the distance

Here is but a wilderness

And this work of my heart is my witness

Here is the place called home

The only dream I have ever known

Some tease and say its far from heaven

Oh, but this is the place He owns