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IT'S SUNDAY, BUT MONDAY'S A COMIN'
We all gather for praise, with the like-minded sing,
And together agree that Lord Jesus is King.
Every one stands affirmed. We're united in prayer.
It's so clear we belong and the Spirit is there.
It's Sunday, but Monday's a comin'.
We wish it would last, the great music we hear
Seems enough to bring joy to a heavenly ear.
But we know it must end and our lives soon return
To the valley of dark where we buy and we earn.
It's Sunday, but Monday's a comin'.
The sermon is powerful, learned and wise.
As we listen, the pitch of our minds seems to rise.
It is pleasant to be here, now dwelling in love,
Getting glimpses of what we expect when above.
It's Sunday, but Monday's a comin'.
Just outside lies a world full of poor, blind and lame.
And as far as they know, life's a cruel losing game.
On the surface? Bravado or numbness or rage.
Even sneering at us, to them "trapped in a cage."
It's Sunday, but Monday's a comin'.
They'll ignore us, despise us, or even attack
The ideas that make them consider, think back
On the wrong turns they've taken. We love in return,
For the sake of the Jesus they actually spurn.
It's Sunday, but Monday's a comin'.
Yet it's just for this reason our worship was planned,
That our minds, souls and spirits, with nourishment grand,
Were united with sisters and brothers in peace.
For God chose us and sent us to seek His lost sheep.
IT'S SUNDAY, BUT MONDAY'S A COMIN'!
Ross S. Olson
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