I'm waiting, Lord, for You to act;
I've done all I can do.
From easychair I've made a pact
To win the world for You.
To anywhere I'll go -- no "if's"!
(As long as I can find
A spot to use my spir'tual gifts,
My talents, and my mind.)
For foreign land my tongue is poor;
Their food might make me die.
Most here at home have heard before;
For them no need to try.
The seniors are too stubborn, Lord --
Impossible to reach;
As for the youth, with Bible bored,
They'd rather jog the beach.
The Mormons and J.W. throng
Are far too steeped in error;
For them to ever say they're wrong
Is more than they can bear.
The Buddhists and New Agers too,
You know I'd never win.
Their thinking's turned to mushy goo --
No chance they'd let You in!
Who does that leave? The liberals, God?
Why, they're beyond Your work!
At sodomy those jerks applaud,
At resurrection smirk.
My fam'ly knows my history;
My life offstage they view.
Why should they listen much to me,
When I'm not much like You?
The rich folk see no need for God --
They think they've got it made;
While ghetto dwellers don't find odd
To party once they've prayed.
Invite them here? But they might steal
The quiet from my space;
And if they're poor you know I'd feel
Concerned they'd rob the place!
I'd go to them, but that they'd call
Rude pushiness of mine,
Or else into the mud I'd fall
While hanging out with swine.
The problem, God, You see's with them --
I'm ready as can be!
I just can't find another gem
That You could save like me.