Father's House

The way to my father's house when I was just a boy

Lay through fields of innocence near bubbling springs of joy

And when I'd lay me down to sleep

I'd pray the lord my soul to keep

The road was never very steep

On the way to my father's house.

The way to my father's house when I turned seventeen

Wandered through inviting hills beside a tumbling stream

Sometimes in prayer upon my knees,

I would feel a distant breeze

The road was winding now through trees

On the way to my father's house.

The way to my father's house at the age of twenty-nine

Led over a mountain that I would seldom climb

Except in times of great despair when I'd be looking everywhere

And then one morning he was there,

On the way to my father's house

And glory, what a refreshing story

I was so blind before he opened my eyes restoring me to

The way to my father's house at the age of thirty-one

Was a ride on a rainbow my new life had begun

And every evening I could look through the pages of his book

And recognize the paths I took on the way, on the way...

I go to my father's house in these troubled days

The spirit is moving in mysterious ways

Reminded when old doubts appear

That perfect love casts out all fear

In thanks I tend the garden here, on the way,

On the way

On the way to my father's house