Far from home, we run, rebellious,
seeking cities bright with dreams,
casting loose from love that claims us,
craving life that glitters, gleams,
Dreams that lured us on have vanished;
freedom’s road has run its course.
All that glittered now lies tarnished,
robbed of joy by guilt, remorse.
Long the road that winds us homeward,
faint the hope that love still waits;
yet the feet that once were wayward
lead us toward familiar gates.
Swift, a father runs to meet us,
bearing love that covers shame.
Sin and guilt no more defeat us;
grace restored, a home, a name.
Arms, long empty, close around us,
binding hearts in warm embrace.
Love we’d lost once more has found us,
shines again from face to face.
Bread and wine for celebration
on the table now are spread.
Songs ascend in jubilation,
for we live who once were dead!
–Herman G. Stuempfle, Jr.