The silver beard was wet with tears,
As cloudy eyes looked up in grateful praise,
The father who through lonely years
Had waited for this, the day of days.
The father knelt in a dusty path,
Clutched a sobbing, filthy vagabond against his breast,
The boy had come expecting wrath,
He should have known his father loved him best.
The only thing the boy had brought
When he had gone out full of wealth and pride
Was a broken heart, repentance wrought,
But this heart his father could not have deigned.
To be loved so well by One so great,
Love that waits, and grieves through long nights alone,
Love that is patient, will never abate
Waiting, ready to forgive the lost and erring son
Thank you Father for waiting for me,
Thank you for waiting though rebellion and strife,
Hating the sin, but wanting me free,
To love you again, to serve you with my life.
Father, take me and use me I plead,
The least in Your house is more than I can ask,
For I am famished, poor and in need,
Let me please come home, give me the lowest task.
What is this robe? This ring?
This celebration? Am I forgiven? Is it true?
I’ll never ever cease to sing,
I‘ll always serve, and praise, and honor You!