A WORSHIP MINUTE

“The Prodigal Son” written by John Newton

 

Afflictions, though they seem severe             “Now let the fatted calf be slain

In mercy oft are sent;                                      And spread the news around;

They stopped the prodigal’s career,                My son was dead, but lives again

And forced him to repent                               Was lost, but now is found.”

 

Although he no relentings felt                                    ‘Tis thus the Lord His love  reveals

Till he had spent his store;                              To call poor sinners home;

His stubborn heart began to melt                    More than a father’s love he feels,

When famine pinched him sore.                     And welcomes all that come.

 

“What have I gained by sin,” he said

“But hunger, shame and fear;

My father’s house abounds with bread

While I am starving here.”

 

“I’ll go and tell him all I’ve done,

And fall before his face

Unworthy to be called his son,

I’ll seek a servants place.”

 

His father saw him coming back,

He saw, and ran and smiled;

And threw his arms around the neck

Of his rebellious child.

 

“Father, I’ve sinned — but O forgive!”

“I’ve heard enough,” he said.

“Rejoice, my house, my son’s alive

For whom I mourned as dead!”