One fine morning, passing by,
A young lad dropped in to try:
“What’s this place?” — “A church!” they say,
“Just repent — you’re ours today!
God, my friend, loves even you;
Trust Him — He will not judge you.
Take Christ in your heart, and then
You’ll be saved — be born again.”

“What? But I smoke, and I swear,
I go wrong just everywhere!” —
“Don’t be scared — God will forgive,
Jesus was beaten so you’d live!
He was tortured, He was slain,
So that you could live again!
He has paid the price for you,
Saved you from death — it is true!” —
“How can I repay Him, then?” —
“Nothing! Take the Gift — amen!”
Glad the soul at such good news,
Not a penny — nothing to lose.
And up there, in heaven’s height,
Feast and party — sheer delight:
“The son is back — how grand, how fine!”
All the heavens shout and shine!
Shoes and robe, a ring to wear:
“Son, I love you!” fills the air.

Days go by, a month, a year:
“Something’s wrong — he’s stuck right here,
And his tithe is just the same —
Sure: his kids, his mum… the same!”
Now the lad can feel the blame,
And a different scrutiny came:
“Why aren’t you serving God like these?
With the leaders you’re not at ease;
All went to the capital’s show —
Where were you? We’d like to know!
What kind of Christian are you, son,
If you walk alone, just one?” —
“But my family, work, the kids —
I can’t do all that life bids!
Mornings, to the nursery I ran,
Evenings with my wife I began,
We went visiting, she and I,
Fed seven children standing by,
Washed my mother, sick in bed,
Prayed with her, and soup she was fed.” —
“Well, but where were you at night,
Not serving God with all your might?!”

He looked down, his eyes grew dim:
Life itself seemed hard on him.
“Oh, my church family, I see —
God is not well pleased with me!” —
“Cheer up, brother, never mind,
Take the leaders’ course — you’ll find
Then you’ll forge ahead full speed:
Satan, family, folk — indeed…
What counts most is: be in church,
Serve the Lord here — don’t you shirk!”
So the lad took notes, alone,
Sat down quietly on his own,
Had no strength the notes to read:
“Serving God is hard indeed!”
All the pages flew away,
Not a line made sense that day,
But God’s Word was lying there,
Speaking to his heart laid bare.
Then he thought: “How can this be?
It’s a GIFT… how dumb of me!”
Joy gave strength to him once more,
Grace came alive as before:
“All I’ve done in life — and still
God forgave me by His will!
From beginning to the end
All my life is justified, friend!
Can it ever be deserved?
Can God’s gifts be bought or earned?
Only take the salve to see
All the grace God gives to me!
Lord, I praise You! Glory be!
That’s it — freedom, you’re for me!”

Off he ran to those on top,
Joy to share — he couldn’t stop!
They heard him out and looked him through,
Stern faces stared as stern ones do:
“How long has he been with us here?
A year?! Too clever for one year!
And in what ministries was he?
None at all?! Gone cold, I see!
Did you take a lengthy fast?
Oh, so God spoke — at long last!
Well, of course, it’s fine and good,
But we’ve been here long, as we should;
If you want to draw near God,
Then you must serve — and serve a lot!”
The poor lad stood at a loss,
Pondered hard and counted the cost,
And the brothers smile and say:
“See, we’re family — in our way;
And to make sure that you are right,
We’ve drawn up a rule, airtight:
Do not drink and do not smoke,
Bring your tithe — and that’s no joke,
Do all things the way we say —
Then you’ll be a son one day.
If you’ve got some wish or plan,
Come and talk it through, young man;
If it suits us all, why then,
We’ll drink kvass to you — amen!
But what’s not by our decree,
Not as we would have it be,
That’s from Satan — understood?
Then, my friend, keep quiet — good!”

Out the lad went, shook the dust,
Never went back — lost his trust.
“How could one live on like this
And serve God with joy and bliss?
Can it ever be deserved?
Can God’s gifts be bought or earned?
I don’t want to serve you men,
Self-righteous lads — not again!
I will study God’s own Word,
I will wait upon the Lord;
I’ve seen all I need of men,
Eaten strangers’ bread — and then
I will look to Christ instead
And will eat the Living Bread!”

Thank God, that Bread is freely given,
Warm and fragrant, sent from heaven;
In the heart it comes to dwell,
Serving heaven’s Father well!
And if we grow tired some day,
Then the Lord will not delay:
He will draw the Spirit’s sword,
Saying: “Hold it fast — My word!”
Then into His arms we fly,
To the throne of grace on high,
There His comfort to receive
And our holiness perceive!
God is calling: “Come to Me!
Leave dead works behind and flee!
Here’s the work I have for you:
Trust the Son — I’m in you too!”
Burdens, works, and laws so long…
Lord, to You we bow in song!
You went through and did it all,
Gained a family, great and small!
You are glad of every child!
Garden! Oh, the fragrance mild!
You call us to rest with You —
All on earth You’ve carried through!
In each one You built Your shrine:
In the Spirit, joy and peace divine!
God swore by Himself — His word
Will not be broken by the Lord!
Just one question from the foe:
“Are you God’s son now? Do you know?”
Tell me, what earthly father would
Not want rest for his son’s good?
God gives all that we can bear,
So that each can carry his share!
In our hearts He planted dreams —
All we need is hope, it seems!