The Home

Luke 15:23-24

Thou who givest of Thy gladness
Till the cup runs o’er—
Cup whereof the pilgrim weary
Drinks to thirst no more;
Not just near me, but within me
Is Thy joy divine;
Thou, O Lord, hast made Thy dwelling
In this heart of mine.

Need I that a law should bind me
Captive unto Thee?
Captive is my heart, rejoicing
Never to be free;
Ever with me, glorious, awesome,
Tender, passing sweet,
One upon whose heart I rest me,
Worship at His feet.

With me wheresoe’er I wander,
That great Presence goes,
That unutterable gladness,
Undisturbed repose.
Everywhere the blesséd stillness
Of His Holy Place—
Stillness of the love that worships
There before His face.

To Thy house, O God my Father,
Thy lost child has come;
Led by wandering stars no longer,
I have found my home.
Over moor and fen I tracked them
Through the midnight blast,
But to find the Light eternal
In my heart at last.

—Gerhardt Ter Steegen