The Expecting Servant
Be an expecting servant
Waiting for the Master’s return
The lilies do, and they grow
In the rain and in the dew
Yes, they grow
In the midnight hour
From the rising of the sun
Till the going down of the same
Until the last trumpet
They grow in earnest expectation
Be an expectant bride
Waiting for her glorious groom
Like a deprived desert
She thirsts for the living springs
You are dearer to His heart
Dearer than the lilies that bloom
Or the sparrows in the air
Or the beast in the fields
And that which passes through the sea
They wait to be revealed by His light
For a glorious return home.
By Kwasi Osei-Kuffuor
