No Room

“We have no room.” Nor did they care

That God’s own Son was lying there,

All power laid down, all glory sped,

A baby in a manger-bed.

But angels lowly bowed in love

To praise the Lord of heaven above,

And joined the humble shepherds there

In happy song and ardent prayer.

“We have no room.” The world takes up

The cry. “For we must laugh and sup.

When years are few and eyes are dim,

Ah, then perhaps we’ll turn to Him.

But ask us not while youth abides

To lay earth’s glittering joys aside.

‘Till life’s bright ways our feet have trod

We have no time to spend with God.”

Lord, here is room. My heart I bring

To Thee, A humble offering.

It bears the marks of sin and shame

And is not worthy of They name,

So cleanse it, Lord, that it may be

A throne that’s fit to offer Thee.

Then, through the blood of my sings forgiven,

I’ll find there’s room for me, in heaven.

By Barbara C. Ryberg