I don’t know what’s gotten into him–

He’s heard the voice of some unknown
mysterious deity, a god we’ve heard
rumors of from the ancient days, but
He’s not one we know. This god shows
up like a stranger at our door,
and so we have to take him in, I guess.
But hospitality can only go so far,
and yet here we are,
packing up our house for him
to follow him out into nowhere.

But we go, we go, and I go because
of some strange sprout of hope in my heart,
a sprout that might just grow up into
some mighty tree,
because maybe, just maybe,
our name will live on,
and maybe, just maybe,
this promise, this Stranger,
will take us in to Himself instead.


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