It may not be on the mountain’s height
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It may not be on the mountain’s height, Or over the stormy sea; It may not be at the battle’s front, My Lord will have need of me; But if by a still, small voice He calls, To paths that I do not know, I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in Thine, I’ll go where You want me to go. |
| I’ll go where You want me to go, dear Lord, O’er mountain, or plain, or sea; I’ll say what You want me to say, dear Lord, I’ll be what You want me to be. |
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Perhaps today there are loving words Which Jesus would have me speak; There may be now in the paths of sin, Some wand’rer whom I should seek; O Savior, if Thou wilt be my guide, Though dark and rugged the way, My voice shall echo Thy message sweet, I’ll say what You want me to say. |
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There’s surely somewhere a lowly place, In earth’s harvest fields so white, Where I may labor through life’s short day, For Jesus the Crucified; So trusting my all to Thy tender care, And knowing Thou lovest me, I’ll do Thy will with a heart sincere, I’ll be what You want me to be. |