Even There
for Mildred Dolores Orr

[intro]

[verse]
You found Him in a clapboard room,
a bayou town, a Sunday bell,
a hymnal worn as an old glove,
a Book you loved and knew so well.
You tied the ribbons in the shop,
you cut the stems and set them right,
you raised the five, you kept the faith,
and read that Book by kitchen light.

[chorus]
The same Lord in the cane and snow,
the same Lord on the farthest sea,
the same in every far-off town,
the same as He will always be.
You took the morning's wings and flew,
and even there He carried you.

[verse]
You went out to the high, cold plain,
Lost Cabin in the driven snow;
you typed his letters, kept his books,
and sang the hymns you'd come to know.
You crossed the water, heard the bells
call out along a foreign street;
they sang a hymn you couldn't read —
you knew the tune, and found your seat.

[chorus]
(repeat)

[bridge]
The traveling is finished now,
a chair, a window, and a bed;
the miles are over, Grandmother —
the same hand rests upon your head.
You never stood where He was not.
You never once outran His hand.

[outro]
The morning's wings are folded now,
the far sea quiet as a pew.
So rest now, Sissy — He is here.
You were home the whole way through.

