It's crowded in worship today as she slips in, trying to fade into the faces,
The girls' teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know, farther than they know.
But, if we are the body, why aren't his arms reaching?
Why aren't his hands healing?
Why aren't his words teaching?
And, if we are the body, why aren't his feet going?
Why is his love not showing them there is a way?
There is a way.
A traveller is far away from home; he sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row,
The weight of their judgmental glances tells him that his chances are better out on the road.
If we are the body, why aren't his arms reaching?
Why aren't his hands healing?
Why aren't his words teaching?
And, if we are the body, why aren't his feet going?
Why is his love not showing them there is a way?
Jesus paid much too high a price for us to pick and choose who should come,
And we are the body of Christ.
If we are the body, why aren't his arms reaching?
Why aren't his hands healing?
Why aren't his words teaching?
And, if we are the body, why aren't his feet going?
Why is his love not showing them there is a way?
If we are the body, why aren't his arms reaching?
Why aren't his hands healing?
Why aren't his words teaching?
And, if we are the body, why aren't his feet going?
Why is his love not showing them there is a way?
Jesus is the way.
