picture of congregation



There is no higher call on earth —
No call with greater yield —
Than when dear saints, sold out to God,
Go to the mission field!
They leave dear friends and give up homes
And comforts of this life,
To face a world so full of sin,
Of hatred and of strife.
But God has called, and they obey,
And sail to far-off lands
To tell about the Lamb of God —
His cross and nail-scarred hands.
Then, as the heathen see Christ’s love
In all they say and do.,
Conviction comes because of sins,
For they want this joy too!
The fields so white they harvest,
But there’s also many tares,
‘Cause Satan and his cunning bands
Are present everywhere.
So some are stoned, reviled and cursed,
And put to open shame;
But they rejoice to suffer for
Their blessed Savior’s Name!
They teach and preach and win dear souls
That once were vile and tough;
For these dear soldiers of the cross
See diamonds in the rough!
So we at home salute these saints
Who give to God their all —
Who, in the Master’s perfect will
Heard His most sacred call!