I Thought the Missionary Life Called Out to Me

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I thought the missionary life called out to me;

I thought that life was turning that way,

But when I feel upon my knee,

I knew not how to pray.

My lips would part,

But silence loomed.

And though I held it in my heart,

Nothing surely bloomed.

It’s as if that door was closed.

And left exposed,

I walked right on back,

And tried to get back on track.

I thought the missionary life called out to me,

But it wasn’t my road.

It took some time for me to see,

That I was made for a different mode.

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