As I sat in my seat in the room,
Surrounded by those I held dear,
With human book and Bible in hand,
I suddenly felt sadness with fear.
I thought on the words left by John,
To ecclesias under God’s care,
And I thought on the warnings I read,
Had I heeded the words that were there?
Some had the truth in their hearts,
But some only truth in their head,
And those paying lip service to God,
With just words, empty words, are quite dead.
Some are workers together with God,
But others are just carried along,
Like the flotsam that drifts down the stream,
Like a hymn without words – empty song.
Like the fig tree that only had leaves,
With no fruit that the Master could see,
Was this a picture I knew?
Was this all that was left of me?
How then shall my Master thus meet,
With a life that is empty and bare
No fruit and nothing but leaves,
In that day when it’s too late to care.
So this day I will work in your vineyard,
This day I’ll arouse from my sleep,
If I don’t, life is wasted and hollow,
In the future with sorrow we’ll weep.
Yes, there are workers and drones in a beehive,
There are those that produce what is good
But there are those who produce just nothing
For God’s word they have not understood.
Bro Nyomilo Lujanga (Bolero, Malawi)