There at the pulpit he is found,
The sower of the seed,
To bring the Word of God to You,
The messages you need.
You cannot know the time he’s spent
To study for this hour,
His labor with his sermon plan
To bring Good News with power.
You cannot count the many hours
Upon his knees in prayer
He asked God’s blessing on the words
He’d striven to prepare.
You cannot suffer in his pain,
The anguish in His soul,
The burden for his people’s hearts,
That all would be made whole.
You cannot bear the cross he bears;
He carries it alone.
‘Twas one designed for him by God
To be his very own.
You cannot see into his heart
The worries that are there,
Concerns that he’ll the shepherd be
For all those in his care.
You cannot measure any way
His depth of Christian love.
Compassion like his is a gift
That comes from God above.
You cannot sense how tired he is
From work he has to do,
The visits, meetings, all the plans
He has to carry through.
You cannot comprehend his fear
His service criticized
Will bring dishonor on God’s name
And make His cause despised.
You cannot fully feel his joy
At working for the Lord,
But God who’s watching everything
Has planned for his reward.
Yet you can lift him up in prayer,
Be his encouragement,
Receive the messages he brings
As words from heaven sent.
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