Rich In The Love Of Jesus

My clothes are old, patched, and worn,
The soles of my shoes are thin,
My pockets have holes and are empty,
And I know I'm guilty of sin. I'm homeless and wander from street to street,
Looking for work but never find,
If I'm lucky, I sleep in a shelter at night,
And eat the "hand out" of people kind. No one I know is immune from suffering,
When we have needs or abused, God sees us--
I know my prayers are heard and answered,
I'm rich in the love of Jesus. The path of life on earth is rough,
Temptations and guilt never leave us,
Treasures of gold or jewels, I have not--
But, I'm rich in the love of Jesus.

by Genevieve (Gellatly) Forsythe


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