"If any man will open the door I will come in."

First the child speaks:

Dear Lord Jesus, will You come

Into such a little home?

It is poor and it is bare,

Dear Lord, You'll find nothing there.

It is very dusty too;

Oh, it isn't fit for You.

Not a flower has bloomed for me,

There's no fruit upon my tree.

And, Lord Jesus, have you heard?

I have not one singing bird.

Dearest Lord how can You come

Into such a dismal home?

Then the Lord answers:

But, My child, I want to come,

Want to make your house My home.

If I come it shall be fair,

In and out and everywhere.

I will clear the dust away,

Make it clean and make it gay.

All its flowers will bloom for Me,

Fruit will ripen on your tree.

In your garden will be heard

Many a merry singing bird.

Dearest child, I want to come.

May I make your house My home?

And at last the child says,

O my Savior, Lord and King,

Come, I give You everything.

With my whole heart I say, Come;

Come and make my house Your home.

-Amy Carmichael, Ploughed Under