The Home

But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.” Luke 15:22-24

Thou who givest of Thy gladness
Till the cup runs o'er -
Cup whereof the pilgrim weary
Drinks to thirst no more -
Not a-nigh 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, awful,
Tender, passing sweet,
One upon whose heart I rest me,
Worship at His Feet.
With me, wheresoe'r I wander,
That great Presence goes,
That unutterable gladness,
Undisturbed repose.
Everywhere the blessed stillness
Of His Holy Place -
Stillness of the love that worships
Dumb before His Face.
To Thy house, O God my Father,
Thy lost child is come:
Led by wandering lights 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.

Gerhard Tersteegen 1697 – 1769)

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