I want my breakfast served at eight,
With ham and eggs upon my plate;
A steak “well done” I’ll eat at one,
And dine again when day is done.
I want a spacious modern home,
And in each room a telephone;
Soft carpets too upon the floors,
With pretty drapes to grace the doors.
I want my wardrobe too to be
Of neatest, finest quality,
With latest style in suit and vest,
Why shouldn’t Christians have the best?
But then the Master I can hear,
In no uncertain voice so clear:
"I bid you come and follow Me,
The lowly Man of Galilee.
“Birds of the air have made their nest,
And foxes in their holes find rest;
But I can offer you no bed;
No place have I to lay My head.”
In shame I hung my head and cried;
How could I spurn the Crucified?
Could I forget the way He went,
And stopped not till the veil was rent.
A Man of sorrows and of grief,
No earthly friend to bring relief—
"Smitten of God” the prophet said—
Mocked, beaten, bruised, His blood was shed.
If He be God and died for me,
No sacrifice too great can be
For me, a mortal man, to make;
I’d do it all for Jesus’ sake.
Yes, I would tread the path He trod,
No other way will please my God;
So henceforth this my choice shall be,
My choice for all eternity.
The above poem was written in 1960 by a young man, Bill McChesney. In that same year Bill went to the African Congo to bring Christ to the natives there. Just a few days after his arrival the Congo won its independence.
This spelled trouble for the foreign missionaries. In 1964 Bill was a prisoner, and at times was severely beaten. Finally, he was clubbed, speared, and thrown into the Wamba River. At 28, Bill McChesney laid down his life for his Master in seeking the lost. Bill heard—Bill followed.
“And He said unto him, Follow Me. And he left all, rose up, and followed Him.” (Luke 5:27,2827And after these things he went forth, and saw a publican, named Levi, sitting at the receipt of custom: and he said unto him, Follow me. 28And he left all, rose up, and followed him. (Luke 5:27‑28).)
If He be God, and died for me,
No sacrifice too great can be.
Words of Life
ML-02/25/1979