A man once planted a mustard seed, in rough unbroken ground,
like the one he’d heard the Nazarene declare one sunny autumn day.
He’d heard him speak, saw him heal, pious phonies aplenty confound,
and said in his heart, I will inch out in faith, to his Father I will pray—
I am not really sure, who you are, indeed if you’re even there,
I’ve watched one called, Jesus the Christ, he said he is one with you.
Day after day, he’s taught and blessed, multitudes from everywhere,
I cannot count, yea begin to reckon, the swell his sheer presence drew.
Some came for food, some to be healed, some came just him to test,
whatever the cause, he met them there, how often he wept when they left.
His soul so heavy and troubled, over a multitude so thoroughly blessed,
what a strange, strange, paradox I wondered, could leave him so bereft.
Whenever I could, I would follow behind, and listen to all that he said,
he spoke of you often rejoicing, oft’ said today in him you have come.
Perchance, one day, caught off guard, close beside me he had tread,
before I could think, he asked me fast—believe you I am God’s Son?
My Lord, I said, why do you ask me?!, out of a multitude so great?!,
He said it is my Father’s will, that none be lost, I am here to help your faith.
Though small, yea small, but reflecting, that straight and narrow gate,
O turn!, but turn!, and gird up your faith!, and through me you shall be saved!
Father I saw him no more, save once on a hill, in anguish crucified,
and as I stood, and beheld, with spirit aggrieved, my heart turned fully to thee,
for perchance, one instant, caught off guard, his caring eyes they pierced mine,
then my faith girded up, as he cried it is finished, he sprouted a mustard seed.
…
I love you great savior God. Thank you for loving us so, hallelujah!