A song from my past has been running through my head for a few days, a song I learned when I was attending Skinner School in Taylor County, Iowa. A hymn, actually. I don't think I ever heard it at church, but the first time we sang it in school, I connected with it; it was my song. The words in that song had everything in it that I, a six-year-old child, believed. My spirit soared when I first heard it. The song still makes my heart sing, and it calms my soul.
1. This is my Father's world, and to my listening ears all nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres. This is my Father's world: I rest me in the thought of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; his hand the wonders wrought. 2. This is my Father's world, the birds their carols raise, the morning light, the lily white, declare their maker's praise. This is my Father's world: he shines in all that's fair; in the rustling grass I hear him pass; he speaks to me everywhere. 3. This is my Father's world. O let me ne'er forget that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet. This is my Father's world: The battle is not done. Jesus who died shall be satisfied And earth and heaven be one!