Lost in the Cracks
When you see someone in need, is your compassion sentimental or real?
What is it about me Lord, I don't understand
When people want to help me, and they reach out their hand
I need their help in desperation, so I reach back in return
But every time I do, I fear that I'll get burned
I suppose from past experience, that people let me down
They want to offer help, but then don't come around
Something had come up, they had a busy week
They couldn't fit me in, another promise they couldn't keep
You see, I'm not ungrateful Lord, I appreciate the thought
But I had a schedule to keep, but it all came to naught
I guess it hurts when people don't always come through
When it's a job where you need help, and it leaves you in a stew
It sure would've been better if they never said a word
Than to say you could count on them, and then you never heard
Another thing from them about it, or why they didn't show
Or someone didn't tell them, or that they didn't know.
Then one day, I found a man who lived out on the street
I offered him a place to stay, I thought would be a treat
He declined my offer, and made me realize
That the help that I had offered him was simply filled with lies.
You see, my good intentions were nothing new to him
Because a week or two from now, he'll be left out on a limb
Something will come up, just like what went on before
He fears that in no time at all I'll send him out the door.
I made up my mind that day I saw that hungry, lonely man
And you sure made it clear to me and made me understand
That it's better to drive on by, and never say a word
Than to pick him up and say I'll help, and act like he never heard
There are people that I meet out there that know just how I feel
They want to tell how much they hurt, and whether it will heal
They're looking for good listeners, and not some talking head
They're looking for a love that's real, more than being fed.
You hear of people who do nice things, giving with their heart
They offer meals once a year, they feel they've done their part
But the people out there bleeding don't need that kind of love
They need the kind that's lasting, that's sent down from above
There's nothing wrong with feeding them, don't misunderstand
But what about tomorrow, they'll have an empty hand
The help we show just now and then will hurt them even more
The hurt will just get worse, and remain an open sore.
I feel like it's only me that hears or sees these things
But the people that I meet out there, I hear familiar rings
Many times I find that the church doesn't meet their need
People try to patch them up, but the wound continues to bleed
The love just isn't genuine - people put on an act
I know that they all mean well, good intentions are a fact
But how they talk and what they do with helping hands
Is like throwing out a wreath of flowers to a drowning man.
©1991 David Film.
www.DavidFilm.ShortURL.com
When people want to help me, and they reach out their hand
I need their help in desperation, so I reach back in return
But every time I do, I fear that I'll get burned
I suppose from past experience, that people let me down
They want to offer help, but then don't come around
Something had come up, they had a busy week
They couldn't fit me in, another promise they couldn't keep
You see, I'm not ungrateful Lord, I appreciate the thought
But I had a schedule to keep, but it all came to naught
I guess it hurts when people don't always come through
When it's a job where you need help, and it leaves you in a stew
It sure would've been better if they never said a word
Than to say you could count on them, and then you never heard
Another thing from them about it, or why they didn't show
Or someone didn't tell them, or that they didn't know.
Then one day, I found a man who lived out on the street
I offered him a place to stay, I thought would be a treat
He declined my offer, and made me realize
That the help that I had offered him was simply filled with lies.
You see, my good intentions were nothing new to him
Because a week or two from now, he'll be left out on a limb
Something will come up, just like what went on before
He fears that in no time at all I'll send him out the door.
I made up my mind that day I saw that hungry, lonely man
And you sure made it clear to me and made me understand
That it's better to drive on by, and never say a word
Than to pick him up and say I'll help, and act like he never heard
There are people that I meet out there that know just how I feel
They want to tell how much they hurt, and whether it will heal
They're looking for good listeners, and not some talking head
They're looking for a love that's real, more than being fed.
You hear of people who do nice things, giving with their heart
They offer meals once a year, they feel they've done their part
But the people out there bleeding don't need that kind of love
They need the kind that's lasting, that's sent down from above
There's nothing wrong with feeding them, don't misunderstand
But what about tomorrow, they'll have an empty hand
The help we show just now and then will hurt them even more
The hurt will just get worse, and remain an open sore.
I feel like it's only me that hears or sees these things
But the people that I meet out there, I hear familiar rings
Many times I find that the church doesn't meet their need
People try to patch them up, but the wound continues to bleed
The love just isn't genuine - people put on an act
I know that they all mean well, good intentions are a fact
But how they talk and what they do with helping hands
Is like throwing out a wreath of flowers to a drowning man.
©1991 David Film.
www.DavidFilm.ShortURL.com
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