The way to my Father's house when I was just a boy Lay through fields of innocence near bubbling springs of joy And when I'd lay me down to sleep I'd pray the Lord my soul to keep The road was never very steep On the way to my Father's house.
The way to my Father's house when I turned seventeen Wandered through inviting hills beside a tumbling stream Sometimes in prayer upon my knees, I would feel a distant breeze The road was winding now through trees On the way to my Father's house.
The way to my Father's House at the age of twenty-nine Led over a mountain that I would seldom climb Except in times of great despair when I'd be looking everywhere And then one morning He was there, On the way to my Father's house And glory, what a refreshing story I was so blind before he opened my eyes restoring me to
The way to my Father's house at the age of thirty-one Was a ride on a rainbow my new life had begun And every evening I could look through the pages of his book And recognize the paths I took on the way, on the way...
I go to my Father's house in these troubled days The Spirit is moving in mysterious ways Reminded when old doubts appear That perfect Love casts out all fear In thanks I tend the garden here, on the way, On the way On the way to my Father's house