I am not a hero, come home from the war
I am not a saint, who’s never sinned before
I am not the widow, whose love was lost at sea
None of these I claim, for none of these are me
I am not the soldier, who loses friends by day
I am not the housewife, raising kids while he’s away
I am not the child, abandoned and alone
Unlike many orphans, there’s a place that I call home
But God gave me eyes, and with them I can see
Those people so less fortunate, than those like you and me
And with these open ears, such awful sounds I hear
That poor neglected child, trembling with tears
How can we ignore them, the hopeless and in need
We take our lives for granted, in selfishness and greed
I may not be a hero, and I may not be a saint
I may have many things, for which I am ashamed
But inside me is this heart, big enough to share
Bursting with compassion, made with God’s great care
And oh this heart of mine, I know the Lord will use
God lead me to your children, I’ll go anywhere you choose
Read more articles by Kayla Lewis or search for articles on the same topic or others.