The tongue of a silent saint,
What stories it could tell.
If only it wouldn't lie idle,
It could save a sinner from Hell.
How many souls have perished
For want of words from a saint?
One who could have told them of Jesus,
What a tragic picture it paints.
Why isn't the call being heeded,
His command to go and tell?
Why not speak of the Savior
And rescue someone from Hell?
When one day we stand before Him,
What reasons will we cite
For not proclaiming His Gospel
On the rooftops, day and night?
Will we say we were just too busy,
More important things stood in the way?
What could be more important
Than sharing the message that saves?
Will we say we were just too timid?
We were frightened and felt too unsure.
How can we not speak out boldly
And tell them of Jesus, our Lord?
A silent saint is so deadly
To those who never have heard.
So take up His cross and go boldly,
And tell them of Jesus, our Lord.
©1990 J M McIntosh
Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations.