I heard his call to come on home
I came in quiet, cold and damp, my doubts still tighter than my jeans,
Through doors that sighed in solemnness, with whispered mercy in between.
The ceilings climbed, the shadows soared, like hands that were entwined to pray,
Where silence spoke as in a dream, and seemed to beckon me to stay.
The light fell fractured through the glass in blue and crimson, broken gold,
with words long written without words for minds unready still to hold.
I felt their colours on my face like speech that touches hearts unseen
As if my faith was never frail just waiting for a way back in.
Chorus:
In this cathedral made of stone
I heard his call to come on home
not by a shout, command or creed
but by his beauty claiming me.
I walked the graves of crowned decay, where kings and queens in marble sleep,
where every reign’s reduced to rust, where tears have long since ceased to weep.
Though time had worn their lives away, and left no power, left no claim,
there in that hush of humbled rock I heard his heart beat unashamed.
Chorus:
In this cathedral made of stone
I heard his call to come on home,
not by a shout, command or creed,
but by his beauty claiming me.
Break
No lightning split the vaulted dark, no voice declared me clean or sure,
just beauty standing where it stood, unbribed, unbroken, unobscured.
And deep within without a word, the silence sang, the sky stood still,
and something softer than belief then taught my restless heart to kneel.
Chorus:
In this cathedral made of stone
I heard his call to come on home
not by a shout, command or creed
but by his beauty claiming me.
So though I’ve wandered half my life mistaking thought for what is free,
this beauty leads the long way round to finally circle back on me.
In this cathedral made of stone I heard his call to come on home.
©️ Johannes W H van der Bijl 2026
Music by Chris Merry
Vocals: Chris and Antonella
https://youtu.be/CHQejWb62OM?si=10zRkSadsfWaS5Bb
No comments:
Post a Comment